The Prodigal's Journey
by Dizzydodo
Summary: Prequel to "The Prodigal Returns", in which Kolyat and Oriana meet and find they have more than a little in common, ranging from psychotic family to trouble with arms dealers. Rated M for language and future suggestiveness/violence.
1. The First Encounter

The formatting is just determined to be ornery on this one, hence all the page-breaks. Here's to hoping the next chapter will format right.

* * *

Kolyat stirred with a grumble as the early morning light woke him from a pleasant dream of better days, the chirp of his alarm sounding a shrill warning in the background. Sometimes it could be hard to pinpoint the place where memory became dreams, but he had spent last night somewhere in his childhood with his mother looking on fondly as he and his father did their special 'crazy dance'. Kolyat grimaced in disgust; worse than being jolted so rudely from the precious memory was knowing that his father too would remember the incident, would remember him being a playful little fool with a crooked smile on his face and a high-pitched whine that passed for a voice. He would remember it with the same fondness that Kolyat did and therein lay the rub.

Kolyat threw back the covers and rose briskly, making his bed with obsessive attention to detail; every corner was tucked in, the sheets measured equal lengths on either side. It was just another one of the obnoxious habits he had learned from his father and been unable to overcome despite all his best efforts; the devil was in the details as the humans had it.

His comm chimed as he straightened his uniform, inspecting the creases to ensure they were still sharp and adjusting his weapon's holster so that it would be easy to reach in case of need, not that there was much call for firearms on the Citadel. Anyone else might have been pleased to be assigned such an easy position, Kolyat was just tired. He was tired of seeing the same places, the same faces everyday, of hunting down small-time crooks and resolving petty domestic disputes when once he had trained to take the fates of countless numbers in his hands.

He shook off his reverie before it could overcome him and glanced down to his comm; Matthews. Now how could he have possibly guessed that it would be one of Bailey's henchmen? With a vexed sigh he answered, his tone clipped and hostile. "Yes… sir?"

"Captain Bailey would like you to speak with him as soon as you get in today, which had better be soon; your shift starts in twenty minutes Krios."

"I'll be there on time but as you said, my shift doesn't start for another twenty minutes so why should I put in any time I'm not going to be paid for?"

He disconnected the link before Matthews could find a reasonable response; persuasiveness was one of his strengths and though Kolyat had always considered Matthews a bottom-feeder, even he had to admit the man occasionally made a convincing point.

Satisfied with his appearance and resigned to another day of paperwork and other drudgery he made his slow way to the transit, keying in the coordinates for C-sec headquarters, perhaps he could manage a few extra winks before Bailey set him to work.

* * *

Oriana Lawson rubbed her tired eyes in a vain effort to clear them; this past week had been a challenge; between acquiring the parts Miranda said she needed for whatever it was she was getting up to these days, trying to keep abreast of the copious amounts of assignments due these last weeks of her final semester and trying to hold down a steady job instead of her typical free-lancing she was coming dangerously close to her breaking point.

She had made the mistake of informing Nyssia, her soon to be ex-friend and found herself committed to a night of drinking and debauchery at none other than the infamous Chora's Den; the fact that she wasn't particularly in the mood for drinking or debauchery never entered into it, her pleas to the contrary were effectively dismissed.

Oriana groaned, there was no way Miranda wasn't going to hear of this; it was uncanny just how much she knew of her little sister's life, every last impromptu visit to the clinic, every black mark on her academic record, of which there were mercifully few, every humiliating detail known to her perfect counterpart.

She pushed away the bowl of oatmeal that sat cold and untouched, her appetite had long since vanished and any pretense otherwise was just that. All she had to do was get through today without making any sort of clumsy mistakes in her fatigue, spend a couple hours making merry in that foul hole her dearest friends called a club and then she could slink back to the comfort and safety of her own home and lose herself in her painting until sheer weariness forced her to seek her bed.

She rose slowly, footsteps echoing in the empty house; Miranda really didn't seem to know the meaning of 'moderation', not when it came to her little sister. Her protests that she was fine in her smaller, comfier home had been entirely disregarded- she was was rather tired of having her opinions dismissed so easily, maybe she needed to be a little more forceful.

Her comm chimed and she started, flushing guiltily as she read the identification: Miranda. She debated the wisdom of ignoring the call, but if Miranda couldn't get an answer on her private link she wouldn't hesitate to call on her at work. She drew in a deep breath and opened the receiver.

"Ori, you seem flushed; do you have a fever?"

"No. No, I'm fine. I'm just running a little late for work; what do you need?"

Miranda peered suspiciously at her, "Are you sure you don't want me to make an appointment at the clinic? It's better to stop these things in their early stages."

Her voice came out a little sharper than she intended, "Miranda, I said I'm fine. No appointment is required but I am very busy so I would really appreciate it if we could make this quick."

She winced at the brief flash of hurt on her sister's face, casting about for some way to lessen the blow.

"Sorry, 'Randa. I have a date for a girl's night out tonight; I guess I'm a little over-excited."

Miranda's ears had pricked at "date", but she subsided when Oriana specified that it was a girl's night out. Oriana gritted her teeth; contrary to everyone's expectations, she did not need another keeper.

Miranda nevertheless managed an encouraging smile, "I'm glad to hear you're getting out a little, just don't let it interfere with your studies."

Oriana opened her mouth to make a waspish observation about Miranda's work, but was cut off before she could think of anything fitting.

"I'm wiring some funds to your account; I need you to find two Polaris Bio-amps, and an M-97."

Oriana sighed, "Where am I supposed to find these?"

"There is a shopkeeper near the Presidium that will be holding them for you, a volus. I'll be by to pick them up from you in around a week's time."

"If you're going to be here anyway then why not pick them up yourself?"

"We've been over this, Shepard would prefer that these purchases remain untraceable."

"Of course, but as I've pointed out ad nauseam, leaving it to the sister of crew-mate isn't terribly subtle. Or untraceable."

"Maybe she knows I'm just looking for an excuse to see you; had you ever considered that?"

Oriana shook her head in mock despair, town between amusement and frustration.

"One of these days you're going to get me into trouble."

"And then we will pull you out again; so I'll see you in a week?"

"Yes, Miranda." Oriana terminated the link before the conversation could go any farther.

* * *

Kolyat slipped into C-sec as discretely as possible; there were still another four minutes left until his shift started so there was really no point in reporting to Bailey any sooner. Glancing over his shoulder periodically to ensure that no one seemed likely to take it upon themselves to escort him to Bailey he just about ran into the man himself as he rounded the corner.

"Krios, I've been looking for you."

Kolyat checked his omni-tool, noting the time of day; "I have another minute and a half before you have anything to say to me."

Bailey cut him off firmly as he tried to move around him, "You're not exactly one for going above and beyond your duty, but this is important and it has the potential to be a personal matter for you."

"I have enough other 'personal matters' to attend to."

"This may indirectly involve your father."

Kolyat paused, still turned away from Bailey, "I'm listening."

"I'd rather discuss this in my office."

Kolyat began walking again, once again ignoring his superior. "Kolyat, by my watch you were on duty as of eleven seconds ago; you will accompany me to my office _now._"

With a long-suffering sigh, Kolyat complied, falling into step beside Bailey.

Bailey began to speak softly as they walked, "It'll be some years yet before you're off probation, son. You might find it easier to cope if you chose to cooperate every now and then. Put in some extra hours here and there, request a few extra duties; hell, go out for a drink once in a while. Something. Anything. Your father still contacts me from time to time; I'm guessing you haven't spoken to him in a long time, he always requests an update on your professional and personal duties."

"What you choose to tell him of my professional 'duties' is your decision, _sir, _but don't presume to tell him anything of my personal life."

Bailey breathed deeply, trying to remind himself that Kolyat had gone through a lot for his years and maybe some allowances were still needed. Those excuses rang a little more hollow every month. It was clear the kid had a gift for the job; the few times he had been given an assignment outside the office he had not failed to deliver. He enjoyed the hunt, maybe even a little too much; paperwork and politics however, those were beyond him. Bailey devoutly prayed he would learn to play the game one day, if he continued on in this apathetic haze there was no telling where he'd end up.

"Commander Shepard has been in contact with me off and on too; she thinks you're bored, she thinks I should "turn you loose", that it might go better than last time."

Kolyat ground his teeth, deliberately looking away from Bailey.

Kolyat punched the code for Bailey's office a little more firmly than necessary, striding in to lean back against the wall, his attitude one of studied insolence. Maybe it would be best if he called in Commander Shepard for another attitude adjustment as soon as she had the time, but no telling how long that might take.

"Your father's treatments are progressing better than expected, they expect-"

"You had a job for me?"

Bailey clenched and unclenched his fists, all these years on the force and this kid was going to be the one responsible for getting him suspended- assaulting a subordinate would unquestionably be the charge.

"I did. Since Shepard is so fixed on you being given free run, I thought I might sic you on her and rid myself of two difficulties for the price of one."

Kolyat leaned forward slightly, and Bailey thought he caught a smug set to his mouth, "You want me to go after Shepard? On what charge? She's still a Spectre."

"Are you familiar with Miranda Lawson?"

Kolyat's frown returned, "One of Shepard's crew. Why?"

"She has a little sister, Oriana-"

"What does this have to do with Shepard?"

Bailey pounded his desk roughly, "I'm getting to it, try acting the adult for once; if you can't keep quiet for the few minutes it takes me to explain, I will bury you under a mountain of paperwork so high your grandchildren will still be working at it by the time they are grown!"

Kolyat subsided, scowling ferociously but blessedly silent.

"Every month around this time, a substantial amount of credits is deposited to Oriana Lawson's account; a few days later the credits are gone, we haven't been able to track them. Miranda Lawson is logged as having come aboard the Citadel nearly every time after these transactions, she's still a member of Shepard's crew. I suspect that Oriana is purchasing merchandise for the crew of the Normandy, but I want that confirmed. There's been an unusual amount of comm traffic originating from her home, the recipient of her calls is unknown. She's a student with a part-time job yet she lives in a house most professionals couldn't afford; I just need to verify that she's not doing anything prohibited to civilians, no underworld connections or smuggling ops."

"Shepard's not going to like you meddling with one of her crew."

"That's why I'm choosing you for the job; her lover is your father and she'd probably be a little more reluctant to take it out on you considering that fact."

Kolyat touched the back of his head gingerly, a dark look crossing his face, "I wouldn't be so sure."

"That was a couple years ago; she isn't the kind to hold a grudge."

"Maybe I am."

"I suggest you get over it. That could have ended far worse for you without her intervention. Do you want this case or do I send you back to your desk and precious paperwork?"

Bailey was relieved to see he looked alarmed at the suggestion, "No need. I want this case."

"Good. I leave it in your hands; Chellick has the file ready to go whenever you're ready to start work. Report your findings to me as soon as you can conclusively state that Oriana's business is at least mostly legal."

"Mostly?"

"She is Miranda Lawson's little sister, I don't think she has it in her to be entirely law-abiding."

Kolyat eyed his superior dubiously, "I don't understand. What is the object of this inquiry, exactly?"

A suspiciously bright smile appeared on Bailey's typically somber face; "We're just flexing a little muscle."

Kolyat frowned thoughtfully but declined to comment further, ducking out of his superior's office without so much as an acknowledgment. One day he was really going to have to teach that kid a few things about manners; he got the feeling they would both learn something from the experience.

* * *

Kolyat flicked pensively through the file Chellick had provided, there was nothing especially note-worthy or surprising; for all intents and purposes Oriana Lawson seemed to be just one more woman among many trying to make her way aboard the Citadel. Her bills included groceries and utilities; nothing too surprising there, she wasn't drawing an excess of power to her home and there were no questionable substances listed among her recent purchases; her work history wasn't precisely extensive, leading to the question of how she had come by her funds, but with her being Miranda's little sister that wasn't too hard to guess. Her marks were by and large quite good, excellent in fact, but that wasn't surprising either; Shepard tended to attract all the over-achievers and her XO probably wouldn't permit of anything but perfection in a sibling.

The only odd thing about all this was how bare her record was, he could find no trace of her having ever been printed, her medical records were non-existent and despite all the surveillance equipment aboard the citadel there was not one picture of her in the file. Add to that the fact that thousands of credits appeared and disappeared from her account on a regular basis and it was only natural that she should attract a little attention. What had puzzled him was Bailey's insinuation that this fact-finding mission wasn't his ultimate objective; if they weren't concerned with trying to charge Oriana Lawson then why even pursue the inquiry?

Kolyat leaned back slowly, mulling over what information he had; this was by far the more challenging work, he could deal with the Lawson girl in good time as soon as he knew why he had to. Why would Bailey antagonize Shepard? She would see this as an attack, he did not doubt. Miranda was crew and that meant Oriana was too by extension; there would be hell to pay for this little venture and Kolyat hoped that he could observe it from a safe distance.

The light of understanding dawned quite unexpectedly at that thought; "flexing muscle" Bailey had said. He was exercising his authority in much the same way Shepard had when she forced him to take Kolyat on as his aid. He had sounded a little frustrated when he reported Shepard's and Thane's frequent communications requesting updates on his status.

That was precisely what he was up to. Bastard. He was throwing his subordinate to the dogs, hoping that Shepard would come and have a none too friendly chat with him when she found him investigating a member of her extended "family". It would probably curtail whatever business she was neck-deep in now; he wouldn't put it past her to storm the Citadel demanding answers and when she found that it was Kolyat making all the stir. _Shit_.

Kolyat rose from his desk and started briskly toward Bailey's office, rehearsing his refusal in his head; other officers stepped quickly from his path as they noticed the storm-clouds gathering on his brow. He did not want to end up as another one of Shepard's projects again. Besides, if she came to the Citadel she would bring his… father with her and doubtless try to force some sort of reconciliation.

He paused just outside of Bailey's door, hand half-raised to punch in his code. Maybe this could play out another way; what if Shepard _did_ drop whatever she was doing to storm the Citadel and what if she _was_ vexed about having her proverbial tail pulled? There was some potential for amusement here, if he made himself scarce then Bailey, as his direct superior, would be the one to suffer the fallout. He would be reluctant to pull such a prank again, certainly. And perhaps, though his conscious mind would never even permit the thought, perhaps he could see for himself how well his father's recovery was going.

* * *

Oriana hesitated on the threshold of Chora's Den, resisting her friend's insistent tugs; "I think I've changed my mind, it's been a long day and I think I just want to turn in. This really isn't doing it for me."

Nyssia huffed impatiently, "Not this time, you always back out but not this time. You said you would come-"

"I'm here!"

"And stay for a few drinks. We're going to go in, have a few drinks maybe flirt with a few of the dancers and then you can head home and I'll make off with the dancer." Nyssia smiled predatorially and Oriana swallowed, feeling a brief pang for the one that attracted Nyssia's attention. She'd been behaving lately, and it was Oriana's opinion that the strain was doing something to her mind.

She sighed deeply, allowing Nyssia to tug her the rest of the way in, "One drink. Just one. And then I'm gone."

"Fine. Oh! I forgot to say, I invited Sasha and Coiren along."

Oriana groaned with feeling, it would be a miracle if she ever got out of here. One drink would invariably lead to another and another until Nyssia propositioned someone and Coiren thoughtfully volunteered to accompany her and then Sasha would guilt her into keeping her company while the others slipped away. She couldn't, not tonight; she needed to be firm, just this once, even if they were her cherished friends.

"Oooh, isn't she a graceful one?" Nyssia tipped her head toward an asari gyrating on a pole above the bar, Oriana turned away to hide her blush. "Yes, very… flexible." She choked out, heading to the bar for that drink as she began counting down the minutes until she could graciously excuse herself.

* * *

"Watch where you're walking!" The krogan growled, Kolyat ignored him and pushed past anyway, shrugging off the Krogan's murderous claws with a smooth dodge and a practiced glare that had the young krogan bristling.

Kolyat smiled grimly, it never ceased to amuse him; so much of the Citadel destroyed after the Reaper war, so much lost yet this place remained the same. Of course the "Gentleman's club" would remain intact with all around it in ruins or still being repaired even now nearly two years after the fact. He glanced back at the krogan with a sneer, not that "gentlemen" were its primary clientele, far from it."

He slid around a human woman who seemed intent on dancing with him, making for the bar as fast as his feet would carry him. Of course he would get stuck on crap duty tonight, garnering what intel he could from their eyes and ears in this dump. With any luck it would be something better than an illegal gambling ring or illicit prostitution this time, but he wasn't holding his breath.

He gestured to the turian behind the bar, dipping his head toward one of the bottles uncaring of what it might be. He wasn't going to end up as one of the deadbeats that drank on duty and ended up dead for their inattention, but it would have been odd if he hadn't ordered anything. He glanced at the neon-pink liquid disgustedly, did they have anything that didn't look like something freshly leaked from an engine?

The turian lingered for a moment, rubbing in circles on the bar. "Nothing much to report tonight, but you might want to watch the batarians over there, I think they're looking for trouble; you didn't exactly make friends with the krogan either. He's a young one, throw him around a little and he should back down."

Kolyat nodded, eyes already turning toward the batarians. He had to agree with the turian's assessment; they hooted and cat-called at the dancers, leering at any female that passed by. The bouncer made his way over to them, dipping his head close to presumably growl a threat. Kolyat watched as they dispersed; there was that problem dealt with, it looked like there was really nothing more for him to do tonight. He downed he drink quickly, barely restraining a cough as he pushed back from the bar- now all he had to worry about was the krogan whelp and then he could finally make his way home and file his uneventful report in the morning.

As he turned to go, his eye was caught by a human woman, clearly uncomfortable in this place, her whole body screamed unease verging on fear. He glared reprovingly at her companions though he knew they would notice. Could they not see the way her shoulders curved in, or the way her chin had tucked down to protect her vulnerable throat as she struggled to free herself from the booth? Somehow he could just make out her voice over the sound of the blaring music, strangely muted now that he's listening for her. "I want to leave." Her friends were having too much of a good time to pay her any heed, laughing drunkenly as she squeezed past them, frantically trying to free herself from the press.

Kolyat looked away, reminding himself that this was really none of his business; she was an adult woman and a stranger, of course she could take care of herself. His resolve lasted for all of a few seconds before he glanced back to see how she was faring. The batarians were approaching her purpose, and Kolyat felt his hackles rise at the thought of what might happen if he was mistaken in her ability.

She slipped gracefully around the other patrons, side-stepping a waitress laden with drinks neatly only to have her path blocked by one of the batarians as two of the others sidled up behind her in a flanking maneuver. "Move, please move." Her voice sounded tired and resigned, not particularly fearful but Kolyat knew this had the potential to turn ugly.

Sooner rather than later if the bastard laid that dirty hand on her. Kolyat would be the first to admit that he had a prejudice against batarians, with his mother dead at their hands there was quite a bit of lingering bitterness. If she called for help, it would be his civic duty to gouge the bastard's eyes out. Kolyat rather hoped she would call for help.

The lead batarian's voice assumed a chiding tone, "Don't be like that, come meet my friends; they'll like you." He reached out to grab her shoulder and she danced away, glaring a challenge as she snapped out, "Don't touch me."

That could technically count as a request for aid, right? No. Not really, she seemed to have everything under control. It was just that he felt compelled to help in some way, Maybe it was her seeming frailty, how small she looked standing close to that unnaturally tall batarian, maybe it was the defiance in her tone contrasting with her defensive gestures. He wasn't interested in over-analyzing, as a C-sec agent he could justify this intervention if he was willing to blow his cover. Then again, everyone knew about the drell C-sec agent with a penchant for drinking on the job and wreaking havoc on Bailey, drells weren't exactly a common sight on the Citadel. It wouldn't be much of a loss.

The bastard was reaching for her again, his friends moving in to trap her. No one else was going to help, not in this rotting cesspit. "Come on Lo-"

Kolyat flared his biotics, pushing the batarian off his feet and into a wall, glaring down the other two that had thought her easy prey. He could just hear her gasp of surprise, a surprisingly sweet sound; the look she gave him made his heart do something funny, twisting his insides in a not-unpleasant way. He was glad he had chosen to step in, maybe she could have handled it herself but then he would never have seen that grateful, wondering look or had his first real glimpse of her face.

She was pale, her eyes seemed sunken into her face by the dark circles under them. Signs of fatigue in a human, he knew. His heart did that odd skipping thing again when he realized he wanted to trace his fingers across that face, watch as her eyes closed in much-needed sleep. He shook away the thought, he wasn't some perverted human fetishist and he needed to keep his mind on the job.

"Thank you."

He could get used to that voice, it's practically music. No. He tamped down on that thought once again.

"Do you need help?" _pleasesayyespleasesayyes._

Her face lit up with a smile that took some of the sting of disappointment from her response, eyes crinkling with intended mischief. "No, I can take it from here."

* * *

As promised, the prequel to "Prodigal Returns"

Once again I will try to update weekly, but that depends largely on my schedule.


	2. The Plot Thickens

Kolyat was finding it increasingly difficult to write up the report on last night's incident, whenever he tried to call up the faces of the assailants turned victims he saw her face instead, when he tried to remember their words he recalled instead her assurance that she could manage the situation without him, and the events that had followed.

She had indeed been true to her word, no sooner had he released his biotic shields than she had taken over, marching them to the door like recalcitrant children and following out after them; he had stood there in stunned silence wondering what had just happened. He had waited for her to return, had hoped that he might at least catch her name but she was gone. Perhaps that was for the better, in the interest of making his report of the fiasco this morning (certainly not for the sake of a burning curiosity) he had turned to her companions for help only to find that the not-quite damsel in distress was none other than one Oriana Lawson. And he had lost tack of her. Bailey would not be pleased, but now that he had a face to match the name it wouldn't be long before he found her again.

Her friends had assured him that Chora's Den was far from her typical idea of a good time; he wouldn't catch her there again, but now that he had acquired their names as well he could at least pin-point a place of work. The trouble would be in explaining why he had bothered to track her down; if he simply approached her and identified himself as the drell from the nightclub she would think him a stalker and his job could get immeasurably harder, the only solution then was to meet her again 'by accident'. He hushed the small voice in his head that said he was already crossing a line; there was no need to pursue any kind of relationship, now that he had a few more details he could track her and never need meet her again to conclude his investigation, but that wouldn't be enough. The simple truth was that he was fascinated and was looking forward to meet her again even if it had to be under false pretenses in performance of his duties.

It distressed him somewhat, how very eager he was to see the human again; his "father" had fallen into the company of humans, it seemed he and Shepard had been pursuing something more than a platonic relationship and that thought bothered him for more than just the obvious, a _human _scheming to take the place of his mother? Unacceptable. Had Thane always had these xenophilic tendencies, did it run in the family? He pushed his thoughts aside and turned back to the report; he no longer had much room for judgment on the human front having seen last night how very easy it was to get tangled in their webs.

Oriana frowned at her data pad. She had gone over the system at least thrice now, had fixed every last inconsistency, but the readings were still wrong; the psi was still far higher than it should have been, and the heat signature was nearly off the charts. Her fingers twisted through her hair in frustration; trust Miranda to leave her with a job like this, a malfunctioning canister and several weapons with a tendency to overheat.

Her instructions were simple in theory: make sure the canister doesn't explode and find a way to make the weapons more efficient. Simple, or so she had thought; in practice, this was proving more of a hassle than it really should have been. And why on earth did her sister have her buying defective goods from that obsequious volus? There were any number of other shops on the presidium that would have been all too happy to sell the very best to Commander Shepard for a price, anyone other than the slimy volus with the over-priced and _defective _wares; Miranda was keeping something from her, some important piece that would solve her puzzle and the next time she called, Oriana would prise it out of her. If she was going to get involved in this mess she at least deserved to know all the details.

If she were entirely honest, it wasn't just the extra work that was bothering her, normally she would have been glad for a puzzle, glad to find some way in which she could be a help to her sister, but she was still caught up in the events of the previous night.

How many drell were there on the citadel, anyway? None that she had seen until last night; wasn't there a drell aboard Commander Shepard's vessel? Miranda had mentioned something about a crew-mate undergoing treatment for Kepral's syndrome, Shepard's lover, apparently. Oriana felt a little guilty for not paying more attention to her sister's words, but sometimes her mind wandered when Miranda went off on one of her tangents; just like she was doing now with all this work.

She pushed the canister away disgustedly; she'd been so relieved to get out of the club unscathed that she had completely forgotten to thank him for his help and now that was going to bother her. It really shouldn't, chances were good she wouldn't see him again if Chora's Den was his preferred club but that only made it worse, a complete stranger had helped her for no apparent reason at potential risk to himself and she hadn't even spared a moment to mutter a quick word of thanks, too caught up in removing her would-be assailants and getting home.

She sighed heavily, no use bemoaning the past; if on the off chance she saw him again she could say her thanks then and maybe offer a drink and if she didn't then it hardly mattered anyway,

"That was a heavy sigh, anything I can help with?"

Oriana jumped from her chair and spun, taking in the unexpected sight of Miranda in her doorway; "What are you doing here?" Oriana winced, she hadn't meant for that to sound so accusatory.

Miranda arched a brow, "I came a little early, my records showed that the funds had passed through your account; I gathered that you must have acquired the items I requested."

"I did, though they won't do you much good. Why are you here so early? A week, you said; in a week I might have these in working order, but right now they're little more than rubbish."

Miranda inspected the weapons distractedly, "The weapons really aren't the point here; we're paying for information and these make a convincing enough front. What use would a student such as yourself have for advanced weaponry in working order? At least this way your tinkering might be attributed to curiosity- a hobby, if you will."

Oriana frowned, "And why would I need the excuse of a hobby? Furthermore, the volus is an information broker and you thought you would just use me as a go-between without my knowledge or consent? Not fair, Miranda."

"Ignorance is the very best protection in these sort of things, you know Shepard has made it her mission to seek out every last shard of Cerberus, we're hunting down pirates, slavers and smugglers too. Dealing in information is all part and parcel with that mission and it's easier to keep it under wraps if we use an uninvolved party. At least then it won't have Shepard's fingerprints all over it at first glance. Which leads neatly into the reason for my early visit: someone has been accessing your records. I've had quite a few hits this past week alone, I think your actions have been noted and you are likely under investigation. There's nothing to worry about; legally speaking, you're in the clear and I will be looking into this, but it may be better if we suspend your activities for a bit. I wouldn't like to have you associated with Commander Shepard, that way lies trouble."

Oriana glared, "So essentially I just have to lie low until C-Sec decides I'm not a threat?"

"Shepard is reluctant to speak with Captain Bailey again so soon, he is already doing her a great favor; besides, it would raise questions if she interceded on your behalf and I will not have you needlessly endangered."

"Glad to know you're still thinking of me, sis."

"Don't say it like that, Ori; I have been exceedingly careful, you are in no danger legally or otherwise. Just let C-Sec attend to their duties and take some time off from your little hobby." Miranda gestured to the malfunctioning garbage on the work-table.

"This hobby was beginning to bore me anyway. When all this is through I think I'll find another one."

Miranda smiled, "That's the spirit."

"And you can find someone else to run your errands. I am through."

Miranda's smile faded, "Ori, listen…"

"You're welcome to visit anytime Miranda, by all means bring your friends along, but I won't do your dirty work; I feel a little betrayed that you kept it from me knowing that this might happen."

Miranda nodded, "I was only going to say that I've been watching out for you and that your work has been appreciated. Honestly, after this fiasco I would just as soon you didn't meddle anymore either. I said as much to Shepard before I departed; she's a little disappointed to lose you, but part of the reason I am here is to find a replacement. You'll be alright; Shepard sends her regards and adds that if this doesn't clear up in a couple months then she will take matters into her own hands. She half suspects that Captain Bailey may have ordered an investigation just to catch her attention, there might be a little resentment there for the last trick she pulled on him."

"What trick?"

Miranda shook her head, "Bailey was a little put-out with the last task she foisted off on him; he seems grateful now, but there seems to be a growing rivalry between the two to see who can inconvenience the other more. Captain Bailey won this round."

Oriana snorted in frustrated amusement, "I'm not sure I'm comfortable with the thought of being a playing piece in their vengeance games."

Miranda smiled, "If Shepard genuinely wanted vengeance she wouldn't use a proxy, think of yourself as a member of her team, and this is just a little game they've thought up to pass the time. It makes everything easier."

Miranda sobered suddenly, "Now tell me about this tavern brawl."

Oriana groaned, how did her sister learn of these things so quickly? How did she learn of them at all? Nothing else for it but to confess part of it at least, she could leave out the bit about the handso- about the stranger and just assure her that all was well and she could still take care of herself.

"My source tells me you were aided by a drell? Did he have that right?"

Oriana blinked in surprise, "What does it matter?"

"So it was a drell."

"I didn't say that. Your source is a man?"

"You would have denied it outright if it weren't so. Don't try to change the subject; what did he look like?"

Oriana found she didn't particularly want to answer that question; Miranda had kept a few things from her recently, there was no reason she shouldn't be permitted a few secrets of her own."

"I don't know; tall, dark, and handsome." Oriana replied flippantly.

Miranda's eyes widened, seeming fit to burst. Oriana reached out a comforting hand to her, opening her mouth to reassure her sister it hadn't been anything important, but Miranda stepped back before she could touch her, nodding to herself as though some suspicion had been confirmed. "That's good to know; I'm glad you're safe, Ori. Perhaps you would do better to avoid notorious clubs in future. I need to be going, we'll be in touch."

She hurried from the room, uncharacteristically eager to be rid of her baby sister's presence. Oriana watched her go thoughtfully; just when one mystery was solved another took its place. She shook her head, turning back to her table of useless junk. All those hours of work for equipment that wasn't even really needed; she leaned her head back against the wall, quietly reminding herself that killing one's sister was outlawed in civilized space.

Miranda was hardly more than a couple yards from her sister's door when Commander Shepard fell into step beside her, "Well?"

"You were right; he put Kolyat on the case and he's already found her."

"With all the safety checks you put in place that seems highly unlikely."

"I don't believe in coincidence, Shepard."

"Whether it was coincidence or fate there's no way anyone could think her any kind of criminal after meeting her. Case closed. Bailey won't waste resources so egregiously, not even to play a game of cat and mouse with me. Mark me, he put Kolyat on the case because he knew we were involved; he's just giving the kid a chance to branch out a little, maybe get a little overdue justice. I'm sure Kolyat leapt at the chance to interfere. He's still a little bitter about our last meeting, not even ready to talk it out yet." Shepard smiled nostalgically, "I thought we hit it off rather well, myself."

Miranda shook her head, smiling despite herself. "Are you sure that's all there is to it?"

"No. Not all. I'm sure Kolyat's a handful and this will keep him busy. Give him time and he'll make a fine C-sec agent, that's what I told the Captain; he's showing me how right I was."

"Rather a lot of trouble to go through just to prove a point."

Shepard shrugged, "Men."

"I object to your generalization, Siha."

Miranda just about jumped out of her skin with shock, but Shepard only smiled, linking her arm with her lover as they strolled along. "Present company excepted. Didn't we agree you should stay aboard the Normandy? What if we run into an old acquaintance?"

"I was concerned that you might run into my son instead; I did not think that would end well, Siha."

Shepard shrugged, "I'm willing to let bygones be bygones; if he stays out of my way I'll stay out of his."

Miranda and Thane shared a look over her head, "Of course."

"Don't patronize me." Shepard growled, "I think I was very lenient last time, and I'm not going to savage him for following orders. I'm sure he's grown up a lot. We should drop by C-Sec headquarters and see if we can't pay him a visit. It's been too long since you two spoke."

"I'm not sure he wishes to speak with me."

Miranda thought she heard a muttered, "I could make him sing for you." From Shepard's direction, but when she turned to look Shepard's face was straight and Thane was characteristically stoic. "Shepard, I thought we agreed it would be best to let C-Sec carry out their investigation independent of any interference."

"Alright, a quick drink and a round of Quasar then we'll head back. Promise. No tricks."

Miranda eyed her distrustfully; when Shepard specified there would be no tricks that was usually because that was precisely what she was planning. It was too late to do anything now though, she and Thane had already gone off arm in arm. Miranda followed slowly behind, not wanting to intrude on their time.

Captain Bailey had obviously been waiting for him to file his report, no sooner had he dispatched it than he was summoned to his superior's office. Bailey gestured to a seat as he stepped through the door. Kolyat eyed the offered furniture disdainfully, making a show of standing. Bailey sucked in a deep breath, "I keep promising myself that one of these days you and I are going to sit down and talk about your problem with authority, but there just never seems to be any time so for today I'll just cut to the chase."

Kolyat took the seat slowly and Bailey blinked in surprise before shaking it off with a visible effort, "I heard there was a bit of a scuffle over in Chora's Den last night, a few batarians were involved- nothing too surprising there. I also heard a drell was involved, and that's where I require clarification. I imagine that's what you report is about?"

Kolyat nodded once. "What possessed you to rough up-"

"I've found Oriana Lawson."

Bailey leaned back, voice becoming measurably more cautious, "That's good news."

"I spoke with her last evening."

"Damn it, Krios. When I asked you to investigate her activities I meant I wanted you to do so from a distance, not waltz on over and ask the girl what she's been up to."

"I spoke with her _briefly_ yesterday after she was accosted by some troublesome batarians in a nightclub. It's all there in my report."

Bailey rubbed his eyes tiredly, "First impressions?"

"This investigation is a waste of time; she couldn't have been any more out of place. She didn't belong there."

Bailey was giving him an odd look, "Didn't belong? Well, case closed then; if she doesn't like a little night life then she can't possibly be working on behalf of her sister. There's no way Shepard would use someone that couldn't hold her liquor."

Kolyat rolled his eyes in exasperation, for someone that complained constantly of his attitude, Bailey had a sarcastic streak a meter wide that he could only appreciate when it wasn't being used against him.

"If you're still determined to 'pull Shepard's tail', then I'll track her down again." Kolyat held his breath, he had gone to considerable trouble to piece together a schedule of where she might be on any given day. He assured himself that his eagerness had everything to do with not wasting all that work and absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to see her again and verify that his perfect memory was not deceiving him.

"That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about. Miranda's been spotted on the Citadel; she went to visit her sister and picked up some company afterward. If you're in a forgiving mood then you might head down to the bar and join your father for a drink while Shepard plays a few games. If you're not, then get back out there and track down Ms. Lawson. I want you to be her closest friend until this investigation is concluded."

Kolyat found he liked the idea of that just a little too much. He glanced down to his omnitool, quarter to five; technically he was off duty, but Oriana would be starting her shift any moment now, if he hurried he might be able to catch her on her way there.

Kolyat rose and turned to leave the room, "Heading home or off to see Shepard?"

"Neither. I have duties to attend to."

"You were off as of almost an hour ago."

Kolyat scowled over his shoulder, "I have work to do. I'll finish when I finish. Don't worry, I'm not going to charge for overtime." He sneered.

Captain Bailey blinked as his protege stepped out of the office, a more sudden change of heart he had seldom seen. Maybe this "investigation" would benefit more than just he and Shepard.

* * *

Short chapter this time, I have tests coming up but I wanted to post what I had.

I'll throw them together again next chapter and get the ball rolling. :)


	3. The Nature of Gratitude

Miranda pushed her way through the throng, checking every last corner for some sign of Shepard; she had checked the Quasar machines where she had left Shepard nearly twenty minutes ago, the bar, the dance floor and had come up empty. She had caught sight of Thane somewhere in the crowd nearly ten minutes past, but he had vanished like smoke as soon as it became apparent she was approaching him. Miranda had the uncomfortable feeling she might have been outwitted.

From the corner of her eye she caught a flash of black on green and spun to confront Thane. "Where's Shepard?" She snapped, Thane seemed entirely too smug for someone just enjoying the atmosphere. "She left some time ago, I believe it would be best if we returned to the ship."

Miranda frowned suspiciously, "Is she going to meet us there?"

Thane turned to go without offering an answer and Miranda hurried after, gritting her teeth in frustration. He'd been expecting this and he'd probably covered for her while she hared off to confront Captain Bailey after her _promise_ that there would be no trouble, no tricks. Miranda hissed; Shepard was a woman of her word, when it suited her.

She had to jog to keep up with Thane's pace, he was likely trying to get her safely off the Citadel before she went after Shepard herself; he needn't have worried, if Shepard was determined to be bull-headed then she wasn't going to interfere.

"She shouldn't be alone-"

"She will be fine." And Miranda was experienced enough in the moods of Thane to know that that concluded any and all discussion.

Commander Shepard was smiling broadly as she stepped into Bailey's office, in that way that suggested she hadn't even _begun_ to make waves yet but was looking for an opportunity. Bailey pushed his chair back from his desk and clamped his hands over his stomach defensively, trying his best to appear casual. The last time Shepard had worn such an expression he had ended up promising to take on a bratty punk with a gift for finding trouble as his personal assistant. The fact that said punk had grown up well these last couple years was entirely beside the point.

"Captain Bailey, I assume by your meddling you want my undivided attention," Shepard dipped her head in mock humility, "you have it."

Her expression shifted to one of concern, "Is this about Kolyat or is this all a coincidence?"

"Not a coincidence, but it may have something to do with Kolyat. Nothing too serious; of course, this also has something to do with you using a little girl to do your dirty work."

Bailey marveled at her mercurial moods; Shepard stiffened, stalking over to his desk like the offended cat he had compared her to not so very long ago.

"Firstly, I have _never_ used a proxy to do my "dirty work", I can manage that on my own, and I don't want to hear it from you; your entire job consists of haranguing others into doing your dirty work. Secondly, I think Ms. Lawson would object to being called a "little girl", I'm offended on her behalf. Finally," She took a seat, bracing her elbows on Bailey's desk as she rested her chin on her hands, "What's wrong with Kolyat? Any way I can help?"

Bailey shook his head slowly and Shepard scowled at him, opening her mouth to deliver another lecture. "I just thought that if I sent him after Lawson it might eventually lead him to his father. There's a lot of rage there, I don't think he'll ever reach his full potential until it's resolved. He's ready for an independent investigation, but if I set him on anything else I have no way of knowing how it will turn out; he's very unpredictable."

Shepard nodded thoughtfully, "I see your reasoning. You could have notified me; Miranda had a conniption when she realized you'd been looking into her sister's files."

"Maybe she'll learn to be a little more judicious in her choice of partners; what were you thinking to send that kid to a broker to pay your bills? DId you think we wouldn't notice the substantial amount of credits moving through her accounts, did you think we would be the only ones to notice?"

Shepard snorted, "It was safe enough; she didn't know anything until now, and we kept a close watch on it. How else do you think we were able to respond so quickly? It made her feel useful; Miranda's done a lot for her and she wanted a way to return the favor, we just gave her an opportunity. Besides, she's done now, seems she shares at least some of your views on the matter."

"A point in her favor." Bailey muttered.

"So, if I have a chat with Kolyat and get him in contact with Thane will you call the dogs off?"

"That would be the final spot on an already flawed record. I'll let the investigation run its course, give him some field experience… and he seems taken with the younger Lawson. Could be they'd be good for each other."

Shepard frowned thoughtfully, "Taken how? Miranda says they met for a few minutes when a girl's night out went sour; he was looking for his target and he found her."

"He was there on unrelated business." Bailey muttered; he could see Shepard's ears perk up but changed the topic quickly before she could ask the obvious question. The last time Chellick had set her loose and asked for help she had ended up taking out several valuable connections and being rather unrepentant about the whole affair. No point in repeating the past.

"He's determined to seek her out again; there's no call for it, he could just as easily use our database now, but he seemed intrigued when I suggested he take a closer look. He should have been off duty nearly an hour ago, but suddenly he's keen on the business. I'm not sure if this is a positive development or not. Am I going to have a run-in with Miranda and Thane too if this keeps up?"

Shepard leaned back with a sly grin on her face, "Can't speak for Miranda, I can keep her of the trail for a while but she and Oriana share just about everything. Thane will be happy just to know he's alright. No difficulty from that quarter, I'm sure."

Her face turned serious, "You think there's any chance they might be able to meet? It's killing him-" Shepard winced and changed tacks, "He is deeply troubled that everything he hears of his own child comes second-hand at best."

"I broached the idea with Kolyat yesterday; he's getting better about it, but I'm not sure how far you could push."

Shepard's face darkened and Bailey felt a pang of guilt, "I see. Thank you for your time; I should be getting back to the Normandy."

Shepard was gone before he could even find the words for a goodbye. Bailey shook his head regretfully; Shepard wasn't going to just let this go. She never did.

"Oriana!" Oriana turned to find Nyssia rounding the bend at a rapid clip, slipping in beside her to take her arm.

"We didn't get to talk last night after the incident; are you alright?"

"Fine." Nyssia winced, "I'm sorry, next time we'll keep it tame."

Oriana felt a disbelieving laugh bubbling up in her throat. "If there is a 'next time', it would probably best if I sit that one out."

Nyssia nodded miserably, "Well, I should have at least a couple months to talk you around." She perked up, smiling suddenly in a sly way that Oriana had come to recognize as the precursor to trouble.

"So, about the drell."

"What about him?"

"Not often you see one of those on the Citadel."

"No, I guess not." Oriana slanted a look under her lashes, what was Nyssia getting at?

"Nice of him,to help you out like that."

"Yes, it was." She muttered suspiciously.

"Did you thank him?" Nyssia's smile grew wider.

"I'm afraid I didn't."

"Lucky you, here's your chance."

Oriana glanced around wildly until her eyes caught on a familiar form standing near the kiosk where she normally worked.

Out of the corner of her eye, Oriana just caught Nyssia's wink. "Go get him."

Nyssia pushed her forward, urging her to walk faster and Oriana stumbled. The unexpected flash of movement must have caught his eye because her drell… _the _drell turned to stare, eyes widening in surprise when he took in the approaching women.

Blushing hot with embarrassment, Oriana made her way forward, uncertain as to the proper protocol for these things. How was she supposed to greet a stranger that appeared out of nowhere the day after saving her from a potentially humiliating scuffle? Oriana hesitated before slipping behind the counter, feeling a little more at her ease with something between them and not particularly caring to examine the reason for that.

She tried to lean against the counter casually, blush rising to the very tips of her ears as Nyssia slipped in behind her to pat her back on the way by. Oriana cleared her throat, "Good morning."

She could hear Nyssia groan behind her, "Evening, I meant." Oriana beamed to cover the gaff, silently berating herself for her clumsiness; this would have been much easier if he hadn't seen that graceless stumble.

What now? He was still staring at her as if she was some kind of curiosity, eyes lingering on her face as though it was vital he commit every feature to memory. Oriana cleared her throat expectantly, leaning back from the counter and he snapped out of it, blinking rapidly to clear away a thought.

"Can I help you with something? The stock's all listed there, but we also manage repairs."

"I just…" He glanced at the stock, struggling to make a decision. Oriana felt a flash of pity, doubtless he was still wrestling with accidentally running into the same woman twice. It was quite the coincidence and it seemed he was as awkward as she was about it. Oriana brightened considerably, that did make things a great deal easier.

"I should've thanked you last night, by the way. Guess I was a little caught up in the moment, I just wanted to get out of there."

She smiled self-deprecatingly and noted the answering smile on his face, at least she was fairly sure it was supposed to be a smile; his muscles weren't cooperating and it came off as a lesser scowl, a lightening of the the frown that had evidently frozen there. She had her answer to one of the questions that had bothered her as a child; expressions could stick if you used them too often.

"No need for thanks, they were bothering me too." He cleared his throat, "I was actually looking for a mod, but you don't seem to have it here. Could you recommend somewhere that might sell an X-90?"

His gaze sharpened suddenly and Oriana felt herself growing flustered, "I'm sure you could find something in the market in Zakera ward if you looked hard enough. X-90s were discontinued a while back, you would do better to replace the system."

"I'm attached to the original, but I'll look into the Zakera markets." As he turned to go Oriana struggled with the impulse to call him back, not trusting the impulse but deciding to surrender anyway. Just as she finally worked up the courage to call out to him, and really she didn't even know his name, he turned around.

"You know, neither one of us had an easy time of it last night; I don't know about you, but I could use a quiet drink."

Oriana debated furiously with herself, trying to keep her face calm; he didn't seem like the type to demand any "show of gratitude," but then she didn't even know his name and she hadn't been kidding about not wanting to see the inside of a bar any time soon. Still, something told her she would regret missing the opportunity.

"That might be nice, but we're going about this the wrong way."

He stared at her in puzzlement, body suddenly becoming tense, "I'm Oriana. And you are?"

He tensed further, had it really been such an unreasonable request?

"Kolyat. I'm Kolyat." Spoken as though he were trying to convince himself of something, an affirmation. Oriana smothered the brief flare of uneasiness. She understood shyness, it was just that she hadn't expected it from him.

"Kolyat. A drink would be nice." Was that the right response? She dearly wished Miranda were here to advise her; that was what older sisters were supposed to do, right? She'd had her head buried in books too long and now that reality was intruding she wasn't entirely sure how to cope with it.

"Are you working tomorrow evening?"

"Yes, I think so." Nyssia hissed an affirmation, was she still back there? Had she been witness to this whole affair?

"Yes, I am." She corrected quietly, since when was her voice so thin?

"I could come by at the end of you shift, better not to walk alone."

"Sounds perfect, I guess I'll see you then." She gave an exaggerated wave, cringing inside and silently cursing the apparent timid streak she hadn't even known existed. Of course it would manifest now.

When he had finally gone, Nyssia burst from cover, squealing with happiness so that it was all she could do to keep from covering her sensitive ears.

"I'm so happy for you! What are you going to wear? Where are you going to go? He's hot, right? I told you!" She crowed.

Oriana tapped the counter, "I'll sort that out tomorrow. We have to take inventory tonight."

"You are _such_ a spoilsport."

Some selfish part of her wished her friend hadn't been there to overhear the exchange, that they could have been unobserved for those first few fumbling attempts at conversation. She sighed and shook away the thought; if that was the worst thing that ever happened to her she had it made. And truth be told, she could use some advice, she didn't feel up to informing Miranda of this, Oriana had the sneaking feeling she wouldn't approve.

He couldn't seem to make his hands stop their nearly undetectable trembling, thinking back on his recent encounter only made it worse. It had been too long since he'd actually tried to make a favorable impression on someone whether for the purpose of the mission or for personal reasons.

And this was a little bit of both.

Kolyat ghosted through the crowds going about their daily business, artfully dodging careless pedestrians and brushing by harried couriers too worried to watch their path- he knew the feeling.

This was all part of his fact-finding mission; confronting her at her place of work, watching for any sign of recognition in her eyes when he requested a referral. Even their evening for drinks could be safely chalked up to his duties; she would lose some of her guardedness once she'd had a drink or two and he could push a little harder without having to worry about giving himself away.

He nipped those thoughts in the bud- it was one thing to lie to others, Bailey could see right through him anyway but the charade helped him save face. Lying to oneself however, that was a singularly bad idea, so in the privacy of his own thoughts he admitted that he had been excited to see her again and was unreasonably pleased that she had agreed to accompany him for more than just this assignment.

His memory hadn't done her justice, the dimness of the club had obscured her features somewhat and the blaring music had erased some of the subtleties of her tone; when he first saw her, when she first spoke, he had had to make an effort to keep his mind on what she saying rather than surrendering to the temptation of simply soaking her in. He hadn't made a very good showing at first, but then it had taken considerable self-control to not say something incredibly foolish, and he could forgive himself for that first awkward silence, he'd just wanted to ensure no details escaped him this time.

Kolyat bumped into an absent-minded salarian with more force than he had intended, ignoring his indignant squawks. He was becoming maudlin, thankfully he had the rest of the day off to replay that conversation, watching for every tell so that tomorrow he might better converse with her, but he still had one more shift at C-sec to survive tomorrow. That was going to be hard enough without the growing feeling of excitement in his chest.

Kolyat's thoughts were temporarily interrupted when he knocked into another pedestrian only to find himself skittering back. He turned to make a sharp comment about the importance of paying attention, completely unmindful of his hypocrisy, when he caught sight of a very familiar face.

"Shepard."

"Kolyat."

"What are you doing here?"

"What do you think? I'm sure Bailey told you everything. It works both ways, kid."

Kolyat scowled, his previously good mood evaporating. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be?"

"Right here. That's Miranda's sister you're messing with, I _could_ just send her your way. Or you could talk to me. Your choice."

"We have nothing to talk about, Shepard."

"_We_ don't. I imagine your father has quite a bit to talk about."

"If we're going to go over this argument can we at least take it somewhere a little quieter?"

"Let's try the Normandy."

"Not a chance."

Shepard clamped a firm hand on his arm and he allowed her to lead him to an alcove just off the path.

"Look, I know you think you got the short end of the stick but try to see it from his perspective. He loses his wife, falls terminally ill and though his son is miraculously alove and _not in prison where I could have left him to rot_, he's lost his son too."

"You think I owe you."

"You know it. Ten minutes, just ten minutes to reassure him that you're alright; I'm not going to ask you to apologize for the shitty way you treated him when we were here last, that's something you'll have to do of your own will, but just speak to him."

Part of him wanted to turn his back and walk away, she might leave then or she might haul him off to her ship by his collar. Surprisingly he found himself gesturing to her comm.

"I don't want to see him, but I'll speak with him."

Shepard clenched her teeth, "You are still an ingrate, Kolyat. But I'll take what I can get. If you're involving yourself with Miranda's kid sister, this won't be the last you'll see of us anyway."

Kolyat's eagerness dimmed somewhat; she had a point, if he went any further than business with Oriana Lawson it would put him in contact with Shepard more often than he liked. He shrugged it off, curiosity would be the death of him but he wanted to know what it was that drew him to her."

Shepard started off toward a bench, gesturing over her shoulder. "Let's get out of the crowd."

Now she listened to him; all in her own sweet time, that was Shepard.

When he saw the flicker of her comm a stray bolt of subdued panic shot through him, what was he thinking? Nothing was worth this, not even a promise from Shepard to leave him alone. He would sooner put up with Miranda's temper than stare into his father's accusing eyes, Kolyat's hand shot out to grab her arm but she dodged him in one smooth motion, giving him a look that said plainly she knew what he was about and he would regret it if he pushed the matter.

Kolyat struggled to keep from fidgeting as she opened the comm channel, stilled his nervous shuffles as she spoke in a voice soft enough that even he couldn't catch it, and at last with a dangerous look passed the comm unit toward him.

He took the unit with nerveless fingers, swallowing to wet his suddenly dry throat.

"Kolyat." He merely stared, taking in the sight of his father's face. A few months ago he had seemed so wasted and fatigued it had hurt merely to look at him, now a certain light had returned to his eyes and his entire posture seemed one of firmness and solidity. This was familiar, deciding where it would go from here was a good deal more difficult; he hadn't been ready for this, yet he couldn't find it in him to be angry at Shepard for doing what she thought was best, she was caring for the last remnant of his family and that deserved something- he just wasn't quite sure what.

"Thane." He saw the flicker of disappointment in his father's eyes, noted Shepard's shifting stance and her sharp indrawn breath. No, that wouldn't sit well with her at all.

"Shepard has told me of your current mission, I trust all is well?"

"It is, and I see you are well."

"I am."

A tense silence followed, Thane seemed content simply to take in his son's face while Kolya found he was genuinely at a loss for words. He couldn't take it; the hopeful look in his father's eyes, the reproach in Shepard's, it was too much too soon and clearly he was a coward at heart because he was going to run.

"I need to be going, business to attend to." He shoved the comm into Shepard's hands while she gaped in shock and felt a moment's guilty satisfaction, it was not often anyone managed to take Commander Shepard off guard, then he was off. He couldn't go home, not just yet and he was meant to have been off duty hours ago; where could he go for a moment's quiet thought?

The Presidium, at this hour of the night it would be all but deserted, he could rest near the lake and take in the sunset. If he was lucky, Shepard wouldn't seek him out.

If he was very, very lucky.


	4. Little Epiphanies

Sorry! I got a little distracted with fills/HW. This chap is a lot shorter than normal, but I will begin updating regularly again as soon as my tests are over.

* * *

Shepard made her way to her cabin with dragging footsteps; after the evening's events she couldn't decide if she wanted to see him and offer comfort or whether she wanted to find a dark corner on the engineering deck and wallow in shame.

She had been shocked when Kolyat left so quickly; certain that if he just spoke to his father for a few minutes something would had been years since they had spoken at all, nearly a decade since they presumably had an actual conversation. Damn it, she'd really screwed up this time and Thane was the one paying for it. Wasn't that just the way It worked every time?

She leaned against the wall outside her quarters, gazing at the glowing panel thoughtfully. Last chance to cut and run, but she'd never been a coward and this was not the time to start.

Shepard keyed in the entry code and stepped inside bracing herself to make her apology.

The cabin was empty; as she stepped through the door the lights flickered on, but Thane was nowhere to be seen. She hissed through her teeth, unaccountably frustrated and relieved. Should she hunt him down or wait for him to come to her? Was he even aboard the ship? Better to wait or she might miss him.

Shepard toed off her boots, kicking them to the wall as she shuffled toward her bed; there was no reason to be this tired, but she felt like she'd been run over by a pack of stampeding varren and then hit by the Mako for good measure. She sprawled on the covers, too fatigued even to pull the covers down and buried her face in the pillow; some hero she was turning out to be- save the entirety of organic life? Not a problem. Help her lover to reconcile with his last living family? Impossible.

She blew a gusty sigh into the fabric, curling her hands under the pillow and willing herself to doze. That at least proved no problem at all.

The sound of shifting fabric woke her as Thane sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out a hand to brush the hair back from her face.

"I'm sorry," she murmured; "I pushed it."

"He is not ready; there will be another time."

Shepard wished she could share his faith, but she nodded agreeably none the less.

He smiled slightly, "You do not believe me."

"I mean no offense, but Kolyat doesn't seem to have matured much since our first meeting; I'm a little disappointed. I had expected better."

"Ten years I was absent; I cannot begrudge him a few more to accept my presence again."

"If you say so." Shepard grumbled, unconvinced.

He leaned down to press a kiss to her lips and she relaxed, pulling him down by the lapels of the coat. They would have plenty of time to worry about this later, for now she should just be thankful he was still here and able to grant that extra time.

* * *

Kolyat meandered along the edges of the Presidium lake, watching the artificial light strike sparks in the calm water; he had become accustomed to rushing, not taking the time for small pleasures like this. It was as good a night as any to break the habit.

It had been… satisfying to see his father again and to confirm for himself that he was healing after his ordeal with Kepral's, but that didn't mean he was ready to jump back into a cordial, or even civil conversation again. Shepard had no care for his thoughts, she was concerned solely with Thane and he could appreciate that on an abstract level; he'd be damned if he allowed her to manipulate him, though. She got away with that all too often, and someone needed to show her that she couldn't neatly organize everyone's life to her satisfaction.

He sat on a bench, tilting his head back to take in the sight of cherry blossoms; no expense had been spared in repairing the Presidium, the fact that there were still districts struggling to repair the damage left by war and reassert control of their sector meant little to those in power. He could acknowledge that that wasn't a strictly accurate assessment, but his mood was bitter enough that he didn't precisely care.

"I didn't expect to see you again."

Kolyat jerked upright, scanning his surroundings in surprise; he relaxed when he recognized the figure approaching, hands upraised in a gesture of apology.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." She chuckled nervously, "It's just I seem to keep running into you at the oddest places. Are you following me or is it the other way around?" Oriana teased.

"It seems that way." He replied, sitting down again and gesturing awkwardly to the empty seat beside him. That was the accepted etiquette wasn't it? Or was he supposed to stand? Were they supposed to talk or could they each go about their business? He hoped it was the latter, he wasn't in the mood for conversation, or company for that matter; he knew saying so would certainly be rude, though.

Oriana hesitated a moment before coming closer and he felt unreasonably offended, he had offered the seat and now she was debating whether or not to accept the invitation? The fact that he had only just been thinking he didn't want company was immaterial; they were both here ergo surely they should at least exchange a few empty pleasantries.

Oriana settled uncomfortably on the bench beside him, regretting the impulse that had made her call out a greeting; if his body-language was anything to go by he wasn't much in the mood for socializing, his face when she had begun to draw back had been decidedly disappointed though. She settled into the seat, not sure how close or how far she should be sitting, acquaintances should come with instruction manuals.

They rested for a moment in silence, neither quite sure what they should say to the other, neither quite certain they should say anything at all. Eventually the quality of the silence changed, became companionable rather than awkward. Oriana was surprised to note that Kolyat had unconsciously inched a little closer, elbows resting on his knees now as he contemplated the blossoms that had fallen to the ground.

"That bad?"

He sighed, "Not good. You?"

"Nothing _wrong_, precisely. I was just bored, I guess."

"You have time to be bored? Try finding a hobby."

Oriana took a breath and held it, counting down from five. Her temper was threatening to get the better of her after that remark, but it didn't sound like he meant anything by it.

"I don't really, I'm just getting tired of repetitive tasks. It's been awhile since I've gone for a walk and the Presidium lake is as good a place as any."

"Hm."

Oriana tilted her head back and sprawled a little more comfortably, "What brings you here?"

Kolyat twitched, Oriana pretended not to see; evidently she had hit a soft spot with that one.

"Taking in the view; I like the silence."

That seemed clear enough; Oriana stood slowly, stretching her limbs, "I guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow?"

The look on his face was genuinely puzzled, assuming he'd forgotten their plans or was searching for a way to politely decline she started to move off, waving a well-meant farewell.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." She turned, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, there was no reason to be so on-edge, but there was something in his tone that suggested she was being unreasonable.

"It's late; you shouldn't have walked here alone and you shouldn't be walking back alone either. I'll take you." He stood and Oriana took another step back, frowning now.

"This is the Citadel, the odds of raiders suddenly descending are pretty slim, and as you pointed out I walked here just fine. No reason for you to accompany me."

"If the Citadel were entirely safe, there would be no need for C-Sec; there are just as many criminals here as you would find on most other worlds, and they are every bit as competent."

Oriana snorted, "Are you going to quote statistics at me? I'm fine. You should stay here, clear your head."

He scowled and Oriana squared her shoulders, she was pretty sure they were arguing now. Perfect. There was nothing to argue about, she had the right to walk home alone and he would have to deal with it.

"After your experience last night in the club I would think you would understand."

"We were in a strip club, not on the Presidium. Different world."

"I would prefer to walk you home." It sounded like he was speaking through clenched teeth now. Honestly, if he hadn't commented on her solitary walk here she wouldn't have pushed it this far. The question was whether her pride or common sense was greater. He _did_ have a point, even if it was phrased in the most impolite way possible.

"Fine."

"Fine."

And now they sounded like children. Wonderful. Maybe after she got home she could make up some excuse to cancel their little outing tomorrow; he certainly hadn't been in this foul of a mood earlier.

* * *

Kolyat paced along beside her, once again caught between speaking and silence. It had worked well for a time, the two of them sitting peacefully just enjoying another's company without the need for words. And then she'd had to talk, and now he was pretty sure they were arguing. Worse, he didn't really have the right to argue given their very brief acquaintanceship. Still, he was genuinely concerned and it didn't sit well with him.

With all the passenger ships coming and going, the new supplies being delivered and the extra hands needed to put the finishing touches on repair work, the Citadel was more dangerous than it had been before the war. Even then it had still had its fair share of crime, even in the better districts. She was Miranda Lawson's sister, and really she should know better.

Or perhaps she shared more with her sister than simply blood; he hadn't considered that angle. Better to be safe though, just in case.

She stalked along beside him, her hackles were clearly still up. He debated for a moment longer and then spoke, hoping to defuse the tension. "Do you come to the Presidium often?"

It worked, her walk slowed and he could see the stiffness in her shoulders lessening somewhat. "Often enough. Maybe every couple of weeks. You?"

"No."

They walked in silence for a few moments more before Oriana spoke, "You can leave me at the entrance to the Wards; it's getting late and I'm guessing you have work tomorrow?"

"Yes, but I keep late hours."

"You still have an unfair advantage; you managed to track me down, but I still don't know where you work."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see the shift in his stance that denoted wariness. What was she dealing with here? He'd been in Chora's Den, it _was_ a favorite haunt of criminals and thrill-seekers. Come to it, she couldn't really see him as the latter, but the former held possibilities. She swallowed softly and flexed her wrists reassuringly, reminding herself that not everything was at it seemed.

He looked to be debating something, he nodded tightly before he finally spoke again, "C-sec."

Oriana stumbled and he thoughtlessly reached out a hand to steady her.

Drell. C-Sec. Shepard's lover. Oriana pieced together what little Miranda had told her of their last excursion to the citadel. Now his hesitation made sense, if he'd recognized her name then… well, that would certainly explain the foul mood. Not every day you accidentally stumbled across someone that potentially knew your past. Though Miranda had been exceedingly sparing on the details.

Oriana laughed with relief, and he eyed her sideways, shifting away slightly, "I was starting to think you were a smuggler or something. Hence your familiarity with crime on the Citadel. But this explains it just as well."

Another thought struck her, Miranda had said C-Sec was keeping an eye on her; who better than the son of one her sister's compatriots. Meaning that their encounters hadn't been coincidence at all. Facts began to fit together in her head, Miranda's visit, her panic when Oriana had mentioned the fight at the bar… Bastard. Two could play this game.

Kolyat stepped a little more carefully, not quite sure he'd made the right choice this time; if they spent any amount of time together, and they would, the truth was bound to come out and if she found he had been lying…

It would be infinitely worse than if he simply confessed to it now, but he still faced the danger of her putting the pieces together and effectively putting an end to his fact-finding mission. She seemed cheerful enough, relieved, but he was still unpracticed at reading human emotions and a little uneasy in this new silence.

"That's my home," she pointed. "As you can see, we are safely back and nary a single thief to bother us. I, at least, am off to bed. Thank you for your company."

She smiled disarmingly but Kolyat couldn't help evaluating the house critically. "You didn't leave a light on."

"I wasn't home."

"You shouldn't be stepping into any dark areas even if it is your own home."

Oriana sighed, "It's too late to be debating this; I chose to leave the lights off, may the consequences be on my head."

Kolyat frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off with a brisk "Good Night." The tone said clearly the subject was no longer up for discussion.

"I will see you tomorrow evening?" He glanced uneasily at the dark house again.

"After work. I'll meet you there." She smiled and turned quickly, practically skipping into the house, leaving him wondering what exactly had put her into such a sunny mood of a sudden.

He waited until the lights flickered on before finally moving off, only realizing then that he had forgotten about Shepard and the difficulties with his father completely for the couple hours or so she had been there.

Perhaps this really wasn't such a bad idea at all.


	5. A Testament to the Wisdom of Sleep

Oriana barely stifled a shriek when she felt a firm hand clamp on her shoulder; wrenching away, she scrabbled backward until she felt her back press to a wall.

"Who the hell are you?" She snapped. She couldn't decide if she was more aggravated that there was a stranger in her house or that Kolyat's concern had been justified, but this really wasn't the time to worry about it. Oriana flared her biotics threateningly as the lights flickered on.

"Miranda!" Relief and anger mingled in her tone as she took in the familiar sight of her sister. "I would have thought you'd be back aboard the Normandy by now."

Miranda arched one perfect brow, lips thinned in disapproval. "I would have been, but my little sister was missing and the house was dark when dropped by to check on her."

"Unbelievable. You've been docked at the Citadel for a little over a day and this has to be at least the third time you've "checked in" on me. I'm not an infant, Miranda; I don't require your constant supervision."

"No. But at your age I would expect you to know better than to leave the lights-"

"Not you too. I wasn't here, I left them off. Can we drop it?"

"Too? Which one of your wise friends has been commenting on it?" Oriana could hear the stifled amusement in her tone; well, she knew something that would wipe the smile from her voice.

"I'm not sure you could call him a friend." Miranda's ears seemed to perk with interest, eyes sparking with sudden intensity.

"I ran into an old… acquaintance of yours." Now she was almost panicking; it really wasn't kind to string her along like this.

"Kolyat. Does the name-"

"Kolyat Krios? You spoke to him?"

"He walked me home."

"Bastard."

"I thought so too. I'm kind of surprised you're on my side though."

Miranda's response was absentminded, "I'm your sister. I'm always on your side."

Oriana snorted softly, "Maybe we could sit and talk about this. I'm not exactly tired; you?"

"No. You need to tell me everything he said to you, no matter how inconsequential it seems."

"Shall I at least find some tea?"

Miranda sighed gratefully, "Tea would be welcome. Unless you have something stronger?"

"Tea it is."

!

!

!

Somehow the walk back to his quarters felt a little darker. It was one thing to walk these paths with Oriana chattering beside him, occasionally asking those perilous questions that he batted aside with less skill than he cared to admit.

Kolyat was finding it was something else entirely to walk alone after having been treated to the rarity of company tonight. He was concerned, and justifiably so; now that she was not here to distract him, he debated the wisdom of ever confessing his role with C-Sec. Logic chimed in, reminding him that she was Miranda's sister. Miranda was with the Normandy. The Normandy was docked in the Citadel and the sisters would doubtless meet to talk.

And if Oriana mentioned her outing and Miranda requested the name of her companion… _shit._ No matter how he looked at it, this wasn't shaping up well.

Either Miranda would hold her silence and report directly back to Shepard- in which case he could look forward to another fraught visit- or she would inform Oriana of C-Sec surveillance. It didn't take a genius to recognize that she would be pissed. Maybe he should have taken the opportunity to back out of their little… rendezvous tomorrow and buried himself back in a stack of paperwork instead.

Suddenly that didn't sound half bad. Investigation was overrated.

Kolyat glanced up, breathing a deep sigh. The only trouble was, every time he seriously considered dropping this case and avoiding any part of the Citadel she might frequent like it was a plague zone he would think of that comfortable silence back at the lake. Or that curious lightheartedness as they made their way back to her home.

It was mostly true that he had wanted to see her safely back; the streets really weren't safe and regardless of what qualifications she might or might not have he would never be able to banish those images of the batarians at Chora's Den. Much as he hated to admit it, there was a little more there too; he had been reluctant to part ways because for a few moments she had completely cleared his thoughts of any difficulties with Shepard or Thane.

Kolyat grimaced; of course, that was most likely because he had been too busy trying to cover his tracks whenever she asked an insightful question. And all that for nothing; she knew he worked for C-Sec now and if Miranda warned her about the taps on her accounts then it was all over.

Still, there was nothing to prevent him from enjoying an interlude until all came to light. She could ease his worries and he would try to teach her something of living on her own without running into trouble at every turn.

Starting by convincing her to leave those damned lights on when she went out. What if someone had snuck in while she was out on her little excursion and ambushed her when she walked in the front door? What if she'd knocked into something while fumbling for the control switch or had left something there in her path to trip over?

He dismissed that thought out of hand, there was nothing clumsy about her; she was all grace and economy of movement. He couldn't picture her tripping or even so much as stumbling.

A new thought occurred to him that just about robbed him of breath. If she had left the lights off, had she also left her security system disabled? He hadn't seen her deactivate anything, hadn't heard a whispered pass-code. She couldn't possibly be so foolish.

No. He wasn't going to go back and check. He had seen the lights come on, and gods all knew she must already think him some kind of stalker with their frequent encounters and his insistence on walking her home. At this point, she had only his word that he was C-Sec. No. He wasn't going to meddle. She was fine.

Kolyat growled softly when he found himself turning back the way he had come. If he didn't check there wasn't a chance in a million he'd be able to sleep tonight. He would just drop by, verify that nothing looked out of place and be on his way again.

Hardly even a day's acquaintance and she was already throwing his neat, ordered life into disarray. He felt a dreadful anticipation at the thought of what a matter of weeks in her company might do.

!

!

!

Miranda swirled the now cold tea thoughtfully, watching the liquid shift and tumble. "You're certain that's all? There's nothing you haven't told me?"

"That's all." Miranda would note the light blush spreading across her cheeks she knew, but she hoped she wouldn't press any harder. Oriana was reluctant to admit how disappointed she was to find his interest was solely a result of duty. She had been giddy all evening after they agreed to meet for drinks. Nyssia had teased her unmercifully, trying to fluster her and it had only been through an impressive effort of will that she had refrained from giving in to the temptation.

Miranda leaned back in her chair, regarding her sister pensively. "This might work to our benefit."

Oriana glanced up warily, "In what way. 'Randa? I thought it was simple as letting the investigation run its course and not getting too attached." She wouldn't dare admit that she had planned on a spot of revenge; "hell hath no fury" indeed- she resented that he had meant to make a fool of her. The blow to her pride still smarted a little.

"I suppose I meant to say that this might work to Thane's benefit, and by extension Shepard's. She's been uncharacteristically tense lately. I suspect it is a reaction to the sudden absence of anxiety over Thane's fate. She put into the Citadel mostly in the hopes that a reconciliation might be arranged, but it seems all hopes of that were dashed… until now."

Oriana slid down in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest, every inch the rebellious child. "I don't mean to imply that you're not a wonderful, caring person and all but why this sudden interest in managing Shepard's affairs? What does it matter to you if they reconcile?"

Miranda shook her head, "The reapers are gone. The war should be over, but there are pockets of dissension everywhere and we have our hands full hunting down pirates, slavers and any other scum that have the misfortune of attracting Shepard's attention. Her _divided_ attention."

Oriana nodded her understanding, "In other words, you want me to stick close to Kolyat and relay status updates? Find the opportune moment for Shepard to pounce?"

Miranda winced, "I'd really rather not force this on you, but it is getting out of hand."

"And it will keep me from getting up to anything else."

Miranda smiled wryly, "I doubt it."

It felt good to laugh with her sister, just for a while; she laughed harder than the quip strictly deserved, but it had been a rough week and she was entitled to a few moments of whimsy.

"Alright. I'll tell you what I can while I can. He _did_ say I should find a hobby."

Miranda sobered immediately, "You didn't tell me that."

"You can't expect me to repeat the conversation verbatim."

"Bear in mind that he can. Eidetic recall is a trait shared by most drell. Just be sure you don't change your story and you will be fine."

"There is no 'story'. I have nothing to hide."

"Yet." Miranda shook her head, "It's getting late and I've taken enough of your time. I should be getting back."

Oriana frowned, "I assumed you would be staying the night. The house is big enough. It echoes if I step too firmly."

"Shepard will be-"

"Comm her. Tell her you want to stay the night with your sister. She's your commander, not your mother."

Miranda shook her head; "Sometimes I can't tell the difference. I'm going to head back. Make sure to lock up behind me."

"Of course." Oriana rolled her eyes in exasperation. From all the comments she had been getting this evening it seemed everyone had conveniently forgotten that she'd been living on her own for a few years now.

"I'm serious-"

"Good_bye, _Randa." The door slid open and Oriana gestured her out with mocking courtesy.

Miranda hugged her fiercely, robbing her of air for a few crucial seconds before she finally stepped out the door. Oriana stepped out after her, waving cheerfully until Miranda stopped looking back. She leaned back against the door jamb, taking a moment to process the enormity of what she had agreed to. This was going to mean more contact with her sister than she was used to; not necessarily a bad thing, but it also meant double-crossing a C-sec investigator.

Well, if Miranda's tales of his reticence to form any sort of relationship with his father were true then here was her chance for a little one-upping as well as a good turn for her family. Looking at it that way, it might nor be so bad after all.

Stepping back into the house she conscientiously checked the security system. Much as it vexed her, she recognized good sense when she heard it and would really rather not come home to another intruder no matter how welcome they turned out to be.

Wrinkling her nose she switched the lights off, taking an absurd amount of pleasure in the petty gesture, even as she stumbled up the stairs to her room in the darkness.

!

!

!

His first instincts had been right. Judging by the thoughtful and vaguely worried look on Miranda Lawson's face she had indeed spoken with her sister, and there was not even the remotest possibility that she hadn't told her exactly who he was and what he was up to.

Strangely, his first reaction on seeing her exit the house hadn't been panic though. When the door had opened and the light spilled out he'd had to fight to not sprint the rest of the way to the door. There had been someone there, and he had failed to take note of it when he brought Oriana home. Any number of things could have happened to her and he never would have known it.

He had ducked back into the shadows quickly, bracing for a conflict and praying that it was only a friend come to visit. Near midnight. On a weekday. When Miranda Lawson stepped out, followed closely by Oriana his first reaction had not been the abject fear that now Oriana would know every last nefarious detail or that he would have to report a failure to Bailey but rather an overwhelming relief that she was safe despite their mutual inattention.

Kolyat still felt a little ill, vivid images of his mother's corpse flashed in his mind's eye and he could feel the ice of fear coursing through his veins. Miranda Lawson was a member of Shepard's squad- a target. By virtue of sharing her blood, Oriana too would be a target; he wouldn't wish his mother's fate on anyone, and he wouldn't wish his nightmares on even Miranda.

Kolyat swallowed the bile that seemed to be gathering in his throat, waiting for Oriana to step back into her home before he dared to breathe again. It was nearly ten minutes before he could shake off the tendrils of panic and turn back toward his own home.

There was every possibility that Oriana would not show up for their drink tomorrow… today. Part of him hoped she wouldn't; he felt guilty using these circumstances to forge a connection, and he certainly didn't like the idea of prying the information from her piece by piece if she became tipsy. It seemed tawdry and cheap, and she deserved better.

And then there was that tiny part in the back of his mind that was still glowing with excitement, hoping that by some twist of fate she might turn up to confront him. He wasn't much of a speaker, and he knew his chances of defending his actions were slim; nevertheless, he found he craved the opportunity to explain and maybe try for a more honest friendship.

He shied back from that word and all its connotations; friends were not something he needed or encouraged. Friends were a drain on his time and a responsibility he was hesitant to assume. He was beginning to reconsider that stance, just a little bit. For one lively, quiet, and too careless human at least.

!

!

!

* * *

!

!

It was the afternoon light that woke her, streaming through her windows to strike her directly in her eyes. Oriana groaned and rolled away, burying her face in her pillow and pulling the covers higher.

There had been so much to think on last night, so much to worry about and- she shuddered with disgust- too many calculations to complete in preparation for her next shift. All in all she had counted herself lucky to be abed before dawn, even if she had only missed it by a mere half-hour.

A new thought occurred to her sleep-fogged mind and she stiffened fearfully, turning her head slowly to look at the time…

Damn it! She had missed all her classes for the day and was less than ten minutes from missing her shift. She tossed the covers violently away, now painfully awake; breakfast- or was it lunch- was no longer an option. Clothes, teeth, hair.

Moving swiftly enough that her feet slid across the wooden floor she skittered into the bathroom, knocking over bottles in her haste to reach her tooth-brush. She washed quickly and threw on the nearest outfit in her wardrobe, grateful that she had at least had the presence of mind to arrange her clothing into matching outfits for just such incidents as this.

With less than two minutes to spare she was bolting out the door to the nearest transit, praying her supervisor was in a forgiving mood.

Not so very far away, Kolyat had found himself in a similar predicament. He paced outside Bailey's office, careful to keep his footsteps light as he considered his options. Should he report in and inform Bailey that Miss Lawson probably knew what he was up to or could this still be salvaged? He didn't want to disappoint Bailey; bad things happened to idiots that disappointed Bailey one too many times and he had to be on his last chance by now. Images of running for coffee or being stuck in front of a glowing screen all day haunted him.

Bailey could wait. As a responsible investigator he should at least be certain of his suspicions before he reported them. At least, that would be his defense if Bailey found out first.

Hearing the door open behind him, Kolyat rushed to his desk before anyone could comment on his presence. He could see the puzzled looks the others shot in his direction and had to admit their confusion was justified. He wasn't exactly known for being scatter-brained. If anything, it upset them that he could be so orderly and prompt; if his colleagues found out he was tied in knots about a human female and how he was supposed to handle her family he would never hear the end of it.

With that thought in mind he made sure to keep his movements as graceful as possible, forced himself to move slowly and meet their eyes as he passed. One and all they glanced away first, and gradually he began to relax.

!

!

!

Oriana bolted toward the sales counter, checking left and right before she hoisted herself over the counter and scooted across to land with a solid thump on the other side. Today was not a day for using things like doors.

A slow, steady clapping sound made her jump and clutch at the counter, heart thudding even faster so that she could practically hear it in her ears- a complement to Nyssia's sarcastic applause.

"I didn't see you in class today. I wondered if you were coming in." Oriana didn't like that knowing smirk, not when it was directed at her.

"I slept in."

"Hangover?" She sounded positively hopeful.

"Fatigue. Am I in trouble?"

"He hasn't been in yet. You should be fine."

Oriana released the breath she hadn't known she was holding.

"Of course, if you want to make doubly sure you could do the inventory today."

Oriana slanted her a look, "Normally inventory isn't my task."

"Today is a special day. You're tired, I'll take the counter."

"Why so eager?"

Nyssia pulled a face, "It's dusty back there; I was practically choking on fumes the whole time opening those cartons. You're late, ergo…" She trailed off expectantly.

Oriana snorted, "Alright, I get it. I'm going."

"I love you!" Nyssia called as she made her way to the back room.

"Remember that the next time I request leave!" Oriana threw a jaunty wave back over her shoulder, rolling up her sleeves in preparation for the dusty work.

Any other day Oriana wouldn't have appreciated being stuck in the back room for the duration of her shift. Today, she was grateful for the chance to escape from the public eye to somewhere warm and shadowy where her occasional lapses wouldn't be noticed.

For the second time in an hour she felt her chin bump her chest and ruthlessly tugged her eyes back open again. If she'd have thought she would have grabbed a cup of coffee on the way in, but then she would have been even later. Lunch then, coffee for lunch.

Oriana straightened from her crouch, adjusting her knife so that the hilt didn't dig into her knuckles quite as much. Three more crates to go before she had to rejoin the world of the living.

It didn't make much of a difference, but she idly tossed the knife between her hands as she considered which one to open first. It was a little like Christmas, if Christmas were celebrated in the middle of spring and you couldn't keep your presents and… it wasn't really like Christmas at all. She still couldn't decide whether she should tackle the large crate or the smaller ones first.

There was really no time for dallying. Oriana stepped forward and cut into the bigger box, yanking at the cheap material between slices. Why they couldn't just use cargo containers she didn't know but…

Oriana blinked, clearing away the packing material with nervous hands. This couldn't be right.

She glanced at the shipping label on the side of the box; evidently it was exactly right, but the cargo was all wrong.

Oriana reached out to brush her hand over the contents hesitantly; no, this wasn't right at all. In fact, last she had heard it was blatantly illegal.

She pulled back slowly, wiping her hand on her tunic absentmindedly.

This was not going to be a good day at all; she really should have just stayed in bed.

!

* * *

I am so sorry for how long this chapter took; I had originally intended this to just be a little miniature story and then it suddenly went and plotted behind my back.

The good news is, now that I have worked out a plot trajectory it should never take this long again. :)


	6. A Friendly Drink

"Is something wrong, Ms. Lawson?"

Damn. Caught red-handed. This wasn't going to end well for her at all if she didn't play her cards close to her chest so to speak. Oriana turned slowly to find her human supervisor gazing superciliously down at her.

"Sorry, sir. I had a bit of a late start this morning. I came back here to start the inventory." Oriana gestured to the half-open container helpfully, praying he wouldn't look into it any farther.

"How far did you get?" He craned to look over her shoulder; was it her imagination or had his eyes widened briefly with panic? Oriana casually slipped her hands behind her back, hiding the sawdust on her palms.

"I haven't had the chance to start yet. If you'll excuse me?" Oriana turned away, looking for the smallest, most harmless-looking package in the room; she could feel his gaze boring into her and fought to keep her motions steady. If worse came to worse she could always scream; Nyssia was just up front, he wouldn't dare lay a hand on her with help so close… would he?

"This is not a charity, Ms. Lawson. If you arrive late to work you will be docked pay."

"I understand." Oriana swallowed, tongue darting out to lick dry lips. Her eyes settled on a medium cargo container marked "liquids." Liquids were safe. Maybe she was over-thinking this. Most of the civilians on the Citadel wouldn't know the difference between a Kessler and a Striker let alone the more exotic weapons that occasionally made their way through the station. It shouldn't matter too much that she had seen the weapons parts, there was a market for them after all.

Who was she kidding? Everyone down to the lowest janitor knew laser sights and silencers were banned to anyone except military personnel and C-Sec. No one else would have need of them, save assassins.

Oriana glanced back over her shoulder warily; she was alone in the room. Better to leave that box alone now. She sealed it up carefully, making sure no sign remained that it had ever been opened.

Inventory was enough of a trial when her mind was free and clear; with this knowledge weighing on her it seemed she fumbled and nearly dropped every other item; her checklist was splotchy, check-marks and dark spots where she had scribbled out mistakes. She pitied Nyssia, the poor thing would probably be a full hour trying to decrypt her writing and enter it into the system.

Enough. There were more important things demanding her attention. Miranda's ship was still docked at the Citadel, she could head there after work tonight and tell her everything. Miranda would know what to do; it would be simple…

Except she had arranged to meet Kolyat tonight; he was supposed to meet her after her shift for that drink. It was a stupid impulse, she knew, but manners dictated she not cancel so late as this.

Of course, he worked for C-Sec; if anyone would understand the difficulty of finding _smuggled goods_ in their _bloody manager's_ inventory, it would be he. She was going to have to report this to C-Sec anyway, right after she saw Miranda. They would want a statement and there would be a raid and all this just wasn't good for her fragile peace of mind. As though she didn't have enough to contend with between an overprotective sister, tons of work and an ongoing C-Sec investigation that everyone knew was leading nowhere.

A new thought struck her, and Oriana's stomach began to churn unpleasantly. What if the investigation hadn't been about delivering a message to Shepard at all? What if it really was about her peculiar spending habits and her sister's connection to Cerberus?

How would it look if she ran to C-Sec with tales of weapons trafficking at her place of work? A little less like an innocent employee doing her duty and a little more like a partner in crime getting cold feet and turning on her allies.

Damn it all, Miranda's parting words might as well have been prophecy; she couldn't go more than a couple days without finding trouble.

!

!

!

* * *

Kolyat glanced at his omnitool for the tenth time in as many minutes. Three minutes more until his shift ended and then he could hurry over to find Oriana and see how bad the damage was from her sister's interference.

Damn Miranda anyway for being such a nosy woman, and gods all bless her for looking after her sister even when it meant butting heads with C-Sec. Bless Shepard too for not only allowing the interference but throwing her own weight to the effort, he added reluctantly. He had to envy them a little for that connection they shared; just a little.

He caught himself drumming his fingers impatiently on the desk and took a deep breath, running through meditation exercises in his head. Checking the time would not make it run by any faster; if anything it seemed to slow down.

Giving up the battle for lost, Kolyat jumped to his feet and stalked away, pointedly avoiding his co-workers and taking the long way to around the office even if only to evade Bailey's notice for awhile.

One minute… fifty seconds… forty… he clocked out on the hour precisely and hurried to the rapid transit. Now for the moment of truth, was Oriana going to call him out and see him on permanent desk duty or were they going to play this game anyway? There was no question in his mind that she and Miranda had puzzled out everything, would she play ignorant or would he see a little more of the mischievous spitfire from Chora's Den?

He wasn't sure he liked the thought of that cutting smile being directed at him. Why couldn't she have been anyone else but Miranda Lawson's sister? His luck was impeccable as always, he would find himself fascinated with the one woman on the Citadel he was required to remain detached from. Sins of the father, indeed.

Kolyat winced at that thought; Thane would have encouraged him to pass the case on to someone not indirectly connected to the mark… a poor choice of words, to the subject of his investigation. When Thane learned of this- and he would- doubtless he would try to turn it to his advantage, manipulate circumstances in such a way that it would allow him to keep closer tabs on his son. It wouldn't even be that difficult;

Miranda worked with Shepard, Shepard loved Thane. Shepard could send Miranda to her sister with the message to keep an eye on Kolyat Krios, Oriana would do it for her blood sister.

Both of them would be playing a double game; he working for Bailey while exploiting the opportunity to come to know her better and she working on behalf of his father.

This was going to make everything so much easier and so much harder at once. There was no doubt in his mind that this would be her game, and she would know his.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about boredom anymore. This was far more excitement than he had bargained for.

!

!

!

By the end of her shift, Oriana had managed to catalog every legal object in their inventory, making it seem that she just didn't have the time to unpack the large, threatening cargo container in the corner, and really what sort of dunce hid something like that in plain sight where any one of his presumably law-abiding employees could stumble across it? Now that she had managed to find some distance after the initial scare, Oriana found she was more disgusted with the sloppiness of the gesture than anything else.

Now she tried valiantly to help Nyssia enter the inventory into the terminal, the only trouble being neither one of them could decipher her writing.

"Has anyone ever told you that you should pursue a career in medicine?"

"Nyssia-"

"No, I'm serious. I've met medics with better handwriting. I didn't think it was possible, but this is even worse than usual. Were you in a hurry? Did some spider jump ut at you and you just didn't recover from the scare?"

"Something like that." Oriana muttered. She would have given anything to be able to confide in someone about all of this directly, but there was no need to involve anyone else.

Oriana glanced at Nyssia from the corner of her eye, studying the asari's body language. She didn't want to think it, but what if she knew? Surely she wouldn't have sent someone else to do inventory if she knew there was a risk of her running across the merchandise?

It wasn't a comfortable thought, but she had to assume that everyone save she had known of this, it was the only way to be sure she didn't give herself away.

"Your drell is here!" Nyssia's whisper was really more of a muffled shriek; Oriana was certain everyone within thirty feet, "her drell" included, must have heard the exclamation.

Oriana forced a smile, uncomfortably aware of the pallor of her face and her cold skin. It would be blindingly apparent to anyone looking that she was not precisely well. She hoped neither one of them was looking too closely.

Kolyat approached slowly, the wary quality of his gait that she had noticed yesterday seemed even more exaggerated now. Was he responding to her pique? Had she given herself away or was it just a simple case of nerves?

"I'll be ready in a moment, I just have a few more entries to note down."

Kolyat relaxed imperceptibly, he opened his mouth to reply but Nyssia cut in, pushing Oriana toward the divider. "She's ready to go now. You two have fun. Behave."

Oriana was left to wonder once again how the two of them had ever become friends and how it had endured so very long when Nyssia insisted on playing the overzealous sister.

Nyssia silenced her half-hearted protests with a stern look, lowering her voice so presumably only the two of them could hear. "I've got this. It shouldn't take more than another ten minutes. You get out. Run free. And seriously, try to stay out of trouble this time, hm?"

"It wasn't my fault last time!"

"I didn't say it was, I just said stay out of trouble." Nyssis leaned closer, a concerned look spreading across her features. "You're twitchy today. Are you alright? Rather stay and talk about it?"

Oriana pulled away, jumping the counter again; she jumped in surprise when Kolyat offered a hand to help her down on the other side. She hadn't seen him move any closer and had no way of knowing if he'd heard her whispered chat with her friend.

Oriana took the proffered hand gingerly, hopping down gracefully and straightening her wrinkled clothes. She tossed Nyssia the brightest smile she could muster over her shoulder, a jaunty wink that did not mirror her mood at all, and fell into step beside Kolyat easily. "Shall we go?"

He looked terribly confused, his permanent frown seemed to have deepened somewhat and she could only describe his body language as hesitant. That might have been just a little too easygoing. She was going to have to watch herself carefully tonight; he was C-sec and she couldn't afford to give anything away before she had spoken with her sister.

!

!

!

"We could postpone, if you're busy."

Kolyat held his breath, hoping she would refuse, hoping she would agree…

Oriana shook her head, unconsciously moving a little closer. Kolyat felt the warmth of a blush rising up his throat; she probably didn't realize that by drell standards her weaving walk- one moment all but skin to skin, the next putting a half foot or more between them- would be considered the most brazen form of flirtation. Humans were an odd species; they had the most peculiar notions of personal space.

Thankfully she didn't seem to be looking at him; in fact, she was looking everywhere but. It was only natural, he supposed. She would be worried that he would guess her angle and he would've preferred to avoid her too direct gaze as well. He was worried he might see accusation and disappointment there; he couldn't bear to see that expression so soon, not after the look Shepard had given him yesterday when he left too quickly. That still cut deep.

"No. Honestly, today I could really use a drink."

Funny; he wasn't much of a drinker, he liked to keep his wits about him and even the smallest bit of alcohol was likely to dull those given typical drell biology, but today seemed like a good day for a drink to him too.

He was no expert on human body language, but she seemed troubled. Of course she was troubled, he worked for C-sec, she was under surveillance and she probably thought he was just waiting to yank out the cuffs and drag her in for one of the melodramatic interrogations she had no doubt seen on the vids. He couldn't very well come out and tell her that Bailey wouldn't lay a hand on her unless he had evidence of something more than a collaboration with Shepard. He certainly wasn't about to tell her that he personally wouldn't touch her for anything less than an order from the council itself.

Messing with the family of Shepard's crew meant coming into conflict with Shepard herself, and that would bring him face to face with his father whether he was ready for it or not.

This was not the sort of companionable silence they had shared last night; it was practically a third person standing between them and it put his teeth on edge. Training was the only reason he held his tongue. He had already broken the silence once; anything further would have to come from her.

"I don't have the patience for this." She hissed under her breath.

Kolyat bridled with indignation; he had made it quite clear that he was more than willing to postpone. He truly didn't relish the thought of taking advantage of a wine-loosened tongue to pry into her affairs. He would have been happier to wait until Bailey and Shepard stopped flexing their muscle and let her alone but this was the way the chips had fallen and-

"Are you-"

"We should-"

Kolyat took a breath, gesturing to her, "After you."

"No. By all means, what should we do?"

"You spoke first."

Now he sounded like a bratty child; she had a way of doing that to him. Shepard would have said it was because he _was_ a bratty child.

"I changed my mind."

Kolyat arched a brow, "I have forgotten what it was I meant to say."

Her sharp glare said clearly she knew he was lying. Miranda must have shared a few more secrets with her too.

"I'll finish the thought for you. We should hurry before the bar runs dry. Is that about right?"

She was smiling wryly, but there was a stiffness to her expression that hadn't been there before.

"Yes." He didn't want to hurry, he wanted to wander along here with her bumping into him every now and again, listening to her joke or rant in that melodious voice. Anything other than this heavy silence burdened with secrets.

!

!

What had she been thinking? For a moment there she had nearly asked him directly if he was only doing this on behalf of his seniors. She had almost confronted him directly about what Miranda had shared and thrown her sister's request to the wind.

Clearly she was even more disturbed than she had first guessed. A little wine would go a long way toward relaxing her. And a little bit of pettiness.

Kolyat was probably operating on the age-old assumption of _in vino veritas_; what he wouldn't know was that her genetic tailoring meant it took more than a few glasses to make her so much as tipsy. She couldn't remember the last time she had been well and truly drunk, wasn't even sure she had ever reached that point.

The tavern came into view and Oriana found she was practically skipping with childlike glee. New plan. Get Kolyat drunk, find out everything she could about his relationship with his father. Relay it back to Miranda along with news of her latest difficulties and sit back to watch the fireworks.

Oriana grinned up at Kolyat, more lighthearted than she had been in weeks. This was a wonderful plan, it couldn't possibly go wrong. Every variable was accounted for, she was certain of it.

Flux was a far more welcoming environment than the aptly named "Chora's Den". Oriana took a moment to acclimate to the sudden dimness before following Kolyat inside; he seemed nervous about her walking behind him. She wondered whether that was more a remnant of his experience or his personal opinion of her. She had thought they got along rather nicely- when they weren't both trying to use the other for information.

She moved toward the bar, but he caught her sleeve and tugged lightly, shaking his head when she turned to look at him. She followed as he led her to a table in the corner of the upper level, one that overlooked the entrance.

"Any particular reason you want to sit up here?" She was genuinely curious; if anything, this level of the bar was even louder with so many gambling slots chirping and whining obnoxious tunes behind them.

Kolyat frowned at her as though she had asked the most obvious question known to man.

"You shouldn't sit with your back to the entrance, and there is not enough room to maneuver on the lower level."

"Maneuver?" Oriana snorted, "You make it sound like a combat exercise."

"In a way, it is." He didn't seem pleased with her jocular response.

"What if a fight were to break out or someone came in armed? Down there, you wouldn't stand a chance. At the bar you wouldn't even see the threat until you were dead. Sitting at the tables you wouldn't be able to squeeze past the mass of panicking beings all crowding the exit. You might as well have a target painted on your chest."

"In all the years this has been open I don't think there has ever been a fight violent enough to warrant evacuating the place. That's why there are bouncers at the door."

"Would you trust your life to a stranger?"

Oriana shrugged, "We all do, every day. If you want to be extreme then you can think of it this way. Right now you're trusting the bartender not to put something in your drink-"

"I can see him from here."

Oriana leaned back, lacing her hands in her lap and clamping them together tightly in frustration. "You're trusting the engineers to keep this place in good repair."

"I have eyes to see and common sense to judge what is and is not safe."

"Fine. Be difficult. The fact remains that I don't think anyone has ever waltzed in here with the intent of killing anyone."

"There is a first time-"

"For everything. That adage is very old."

"There is a reason it has endured so long. This is a bar. It is a more likely place than most."

"It is a bar on the _Citadel_-"

"As is Chora's Den, and I'm sure you remember what happened there."

Oriana's temper was wearing very thin indeed.

"Tactically this is a poor position. We have no access to the exit and we are very exposed-"

"The wall is sufficiently sturdy to function as cover until a way opens."

"We are just off the stairs. Assuming your hypothetical killer walks in the door he is either going to look up and fire-"

"I never said my theoretical killer was male."

"She, then-"

"And they never look up."

Oriana started, "What did you say?"

"They don't-"

Oriana shook her head, "Never mind. It doesn't matter; just a little similar to something I've heard before."

"You should have listened the first time."

Oriana's eyes narrowed. "Do not presume to criticize me; I have a sister that takes that responsibility very seriously."

His smirk disappeared instantly; Oriana took a vicious satisfaction in that.

"Can I get you something to drink?" The new voice made them both jump and Oriana had to bite her tongue very hard to keep from making a sarcastic comment on his supposed legendary watchfulness.

She must be a masochist because she was genuinely enjoying this debate as vexing a partner as he was. She blushed slightly at the thought of what the server must think hearing them argue killers and tactics and criticism. She devoutly hoped their conversation had gone unremarked in all this noise, but judging from the look on the salarians face they had no such luck.

Kolyat was blushing too at least; she had the satisfaction of knowing she wasn't alone in her embarrassment. They ordered quickly, neither quite able to meet the eye of the server.

Oriana was the first to speak after he had left, "I'm sorry. There was no call for that."

"I was out of line." He sounded like he was choking on the words, but it soothed her to hear them anyway.

Seeing his awkwardness she hurried to fill the silence before it smothered them again. "I take it your day went about as well as mine?"

It was the best she could come up with on a moment's notice without giving herself away completely. She was surprised to find that in her frustration she had forgotten all about her original intentions and their true purpose for being here. She would have to watch that.

Their drinks arrived before he could do more than mumble an affirmative.

She almost wished they had continued on with their former topic. At least it made for more interesting conversation than office politics. He was grimacing again and she couldn't keep from shredding the napkin beneath her glass; it took enough concentration to keep her feet from tapping.

In her peripheral vision she caught sight of a familiar figure and was instantly jolted from boredom. Her face must have been a sight, Kolyat jumped from his seat and pulled her with him, shoving her into the corner and blocking her view completely. If she could not see then she could not be seen at least, but she could feel the stares of the other patrons while Kolyat scanned the crowd.

His voice was dry when he spoke and edged with no small amount of frustration, "What do you see?"

"Shepard. You need to get down."

It was almost comical how quickly he hit the floor, using the wall as cover just as he had said he would.

"Why are _you_ hiding from Shepard?"

Drat. Her game was up; she was an awful spy.

"I'm not. I'm just keeping you company."

A temporary fix. If everything was going to be out in the open now anyway then she might as well come clean.

"My sister serves with her. I think Miranda told her something and I suspect she's here to see if it's true."

Oh gods, everyone was staring and Shepard was coming up the stairs. She swore she could hear those boots pounding up the reinforced walkway.

"So how were we supposed to make our exit?"

"Clear a path and run."

"That's not going to work, kids."

They started guiltily, looking up at the woman standing over them, arms folded across her chest and brows raised incredulously.

"Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look cowering there?" Shepard chuckled darkly. "Get up and take it like champions. Come on. Both of you."

Kolyat was on his feet before she could finish the sentence, pulling Oriana up behind him. "Harassment is a crime, Shepard."

"You want to arrest me?"

Oriana could hear his teeth grinding softly and rested a comforting hand on his back. He froze instantly, as preternaturally still as any predator; it was more than a little disconcerting, but when she moved to take her hand away he began to twitch again.

"Is there some particular reason you are here, Shepard?" Oriana stiffened her spine, voice polite but firm.

Shepard's lips quirked with amusement that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I heard the two of you were catching a drink. I thought this might be the place."

"We have already-" Kolyat's snarl raised the hairs on her neck.

"That's not what I'm here about. I spoke to Bailey awhile ago. He has some news that concerns me and by extension you. Kolyat, you have a new assignment effective immediately." Shepard scanned the area and lowered her voice, leaning in and shielding her mouth with a hand.

"Oriana, how do you feel about a little espionage?"

'I'm not very good at it." Oriana slanted a telling glance to Kolyat and Shepard barked a laugh.

"I was thinking something a little less personal. Corporate-scale, in fact."

She knew. That solved one problem.

Oriana glanced over to Kolyat surreptitiously. His face was a perfect mask, smooth but she could see the confusion and anger glinting in his eyes.

One problem solved, a whole new set of them to go.

"Is this really the place to discuss this?"

Shepard sobered instantly, "No. Head back to C-Sec headquarters. I'll join you there in a bit."

Oriana made her slow way to the stairs, Kolyat following behind in a seething silence. This was not going to be easy to explain.


	7. Civil Conversations

Kolyat trailed behind Oriana at a rapid clip, all but treading on her heels; this day was getting progressively worse and he could feel a vicious headache building. It seemed he wasn't the only one keeping secrets and hypocritical as it was that still angered him. How dare she?

What precisely she had dared to do Kolyat wasn't clear on yet, but he was sure it was something suitably nefarious for the sister of a Cerberus operative. Damn it, what if Shepard had her watching him like Bailey had set him to watching her? Plots within plots and no one was wholly innocent.

Worse, that didn't change anything at all. She was still the most interesting creature he'd ever had the misfortune of crossing, and even in all this mess he couldn't bring himself to regret his brief involvement with her.

When she had hit the floor in the bar his first thought had been not to escape, neither to neutralize whatever threat she had perceived for the sake of the other tavern patrons, but only sheer instinct to protect the small human so obviously cowering in fear. Granted, when she had mentioned Shepard it had turned into a bid for his own self-preservation too.

How did that woman manage to be everywhere at precisely the moment that he was? And what was she doing that she couldn't accompany them to C-Sec herself?

Oriana passed the Rapid Transit without so much as a second look; Kolyat stopped, "Transit is here."

She rounded on him, arms akimbo, "Excuse me?"

He scowled, "The _transit_ is _here_."

"I have eyes; I just don't intend to take it. You go on and I'll meet you ahead."

She turned to go and Kolyat had to lengthen his strides to catch up to her once more, "Why not?" His anger must have been apparent in his tone because she glared at him sharply before she would answer.

"I don't really want to be stuck with you in an enclosed space. Bad enough having to talk with you now."

That was a little more honesty than he had been expecting. It stung a little, truth be told. "Displeased that you've been found out?"

Oriana shook her head, "_I _have nothing to be ashamed of; there was nothing to 'find out'."

"You _lied_-"

"And you've been entirely up-front with me." She snorted incredulously.

"I told you I was with C-Sec." And now she had him on the defensive. This situation was getting out of hand too fast for him to keep track. "And your sister told you the rest."

Oriana's eyes widened, "How do you know that?" Her eyes widened, "Creep! You were eavesdropping? Of course you were." She bit off, "On the privacy of my own damn home."

Her decidedly insecure home; if they hadn't already been arguing he would have delighted in lecturing her on every potential breach. There weren't many for a private home, probably thanks in part to Miranda's expertise, but any structural weakness was one too many.

And anyway, how did this keep rebounding on him? There was really nothing he could say in response to her. _I was just following you home; only loitered outside to make sure you were alright, a little eavesdropping never hurt anyone. _None of those would help his case.

"You were under investigation, I was investigating." That seemed the safest option; imperfect but succinct. Let her read into that what she would.

Oriana shook her head, walking a little faster. "Who thought that was a good idea?"

"Captain Bailey-"

"Bailey. The one we're going to see. So he threw you to Shepard while simultaneously tangling you up with me. You should consider changing careers. I think he has it in for you"

Kolyat was not inclined to explain that it wasn't really his choice. He didn't owe her any sort of explanation at all and this nagging feeling of guilt was groundless.

He did have a few pressing questions though. "How did Shepard find us?"

"I don't know. How did you find me?"

"That has no bearing on this situation."

Oriana shrugged, "It doesn't really matter how; she did. And it sounds like she has a job in mind."

"I heard. Espionage. What was she referring to?"

"I'm sure if you need to know Shepard will tell you."

There was really no use in trying to sustain a conversation when she was being needlessly obstinate. Kolyat fell silent, ignoring her pointedly, shifting his gaze everywhere except to her.

He sincerely hoped whatever task Shepard had in mind would not require him to meet with his father any time soon. That had gone so well last time; he hoped Shepard would remember that when she was putting her plans into place.

!

!

Oriana couldn't decide whether she was more embarrassed, angry or grateful for Shepard's interference. Not that it really mattered considering she would never admit anything of the kind to the woman. Shepard knew her sister even better than she did, and it was enough of a trial getting 'Randa to mind her own business.

Then again, if Shepard had wanted Miranda involved in this she would have brought her along when she first sought them out. This was meant to be a little more discrete then; perhaps Shepard's cover had been designed as much to confuse Miranda as it was she.

Satisfied that she had puzzled out some piece of the mystery, Oriana turned her mind back to the far more immediate problem of Kolyat and what she was to do with him. Payback was out of the question now; Shepard clearly intended them to work out their differences on the short walk back to C-Sec. Oriana could have told her that wasn't going to work, but Shepard wasn't accustomed to taking 'no' for an answer; reality just seemed to shape itself according to her whims and if Shepard said they were going to reconcile sometime in the next few minutes…. They probably would, even if it was only to avoid arguing with _her_ instead.

"Shepard's played us."

Kolyat snorted, clearly unimpressed.

"I mean _all_ of us. You, me, Bailey, even Miranda." Silence; Oriana glanced back nervously, worried that he had given up listening entirely. He was watching her intently, head cocked slightly to the side. Progress.

"She had me gathering parts, using funds I shouldn't have access to and put me in near constant contact with Miranda. Miranda assumed it was a boon for her service, a chance to meet with her sister on a reasonably frequent basis. _I_ assumed Shepard had need of the equipment. Captain Bailey probably saw the Cerberus connection and the surplus of credits. He took it as an invitation to meddle; Shepard tested the waters, involved herself slowly, made sure we were all comfortable with her presence and now she springs this on us. I wonder how long she planned this? A year, at least. What put her-?"

Oriana trailed off, assimilating what data she could in the privacy of her own thoughts. She almost didn't hear Kolyat's mumbled words, "I wonder how much of this was my father's doing."

"Thane, right? Probably very little. Miranda says Shepard is very cagey and doesn't much care for explaining herself. Considering the results of her other missions, I don't think her crew particularly cares."

Kolyat was glaring at her again, or maybe his face really was frozen that way. For her part, now that her initial anger had cooled she could see the benefits of working with a little outside help. She was by no means eager to take on Shepard's little assignment; neither was she inclined to let Kolyat off so easily after his interference. He wanted to investigate her? Fine. So long as he was prepared to deal with whatever he found. In this case, a potential smuggler's ring; she toyed with the idea of telling him what she had found. It was tempting to make him wait until the last moment, keep him in the dark as he had intended for her, but if they were going to work together for any amount of time she would rather not be locked in a constant game of one-upsmanship.

"When I was taking inventory, I ran across something unexpected. An extra package, if you will."

"Spit it out."

Well, he had asked for it after all.

"Shepard's looking for a smuggler. I suspect my supervisor and several of my co-workers. Hence the run-around."

"Shepard wouldn't waste her time on a smuggler." His tone said he really didn't think much of her intelligence. So much for playing nice; if this was the reward she was through with it, and if Shepard thought she could bully her into taking part in this then she was welcome to try. Miranda would have a thing or two to say about her little sister being dragged into this madness, and none of them complimentary.

Except that felt entirely too much like a plea for help, and Oriana had been forced to do that one too many times of recent. Miranda already thought her meddling justified; she would be even worse if Oriana confessed this. The only solution was to deal with it and pray it would be finished soon. Hopefully she would still have a job by the time this was finished.

"What did you find?"

"I thought you said Shepard wouldn't waste her time looking for smugglers?" She was feeling a little petty at the moment and didn't much care if he knew; besides, she could see the entrance to C-Sec just ahead, a few moments more and she would be free and clear.

"I might have been hasty, depending on what you found."

That sounded like the closest thing to an apology she was going to hear, Oriana mentally composed a list of the items she had identified, willing to accept the olive branch.

"Assuming you know."

Done. She was done. They were done. She couldn't work with a conceited jackass.

"Would I be working in this field if I didn't know something about legal and illegal tech? Would I have told you I found any if I weren't certain? Would I have-" Oriana bit her tongue, throwing a quiet temper tantrum in the privacy of her own thoughts. It took effort to smooth her expression, trying her best to ensure a grimace didn't become her permanent expression much like it had his. She had more self-control than that, she hoped.

"Let Shepard tell you. I'm sure she'll relish the opportunity."

Oriana took an unholy amount of satisfaction at the look on his face; like a man preparing to face the firing squad. Good to know there was at least one other being having a worse day than she.

!

!

!

* * *

Shepard glanced down to the main floor of C-sec headquarters, noting Oriana's stiff gait and Kolyat's thunderous expression. It looked like they hadn't worked anything out at all. Or maybe that really was his permanent expression and Oriana was just a little vexed?

Kolyat leaned forward to say something and Oriana spun, obviously snapping a reply. So much for that hope. Between the two of them they had more than their fair share of unresolved father issues. She had rather hoped they could bond over that, maybe give each other a hand every now and again. If Oriana wanted to give her the occasional update on Kolyat to pass on to Thane then so much the better. Only that didn't look like it would be happening anytime soon. Pity. She had hoped Oriana was a little more peaceable than Miranda.

Kolyat clipped Oriana's heel- deliberately she was sure- Oriana stumbled, prevented from falling by his grip on her shoulder. Kolyat pulled her back into step with him, ignoring the downright venomous look she shot his way and leaning down slightly to make a remark. Judging from Oriana's expression he was lucky she didn't biotically deck him. Oriana was more forgiving than her sister, but Shepard knew from experience that Kolyat could try the patience of a saint.

Not that she was any kind of saint, regardless of what the media cared to portray.

She would have to hurry to Bailey before they arrived. To say that he had been pissed when she explained all this on the way was like calling the Reaper war a small squabble. She would just as soon the two didn't see her getting chewed out. With any luck, she could Bailey to her side in a matter of minutes, or at least convince him with a timely bit of blackmail that no one needed to know he didn't agree with her methods.

!

!

Kolyat stood aside, gesturing Oriana into Bailey's office before him. Shepard was already there, leaning comfortably against the wall and pretending to ignore the Captain's baleful glare.

"Why do I have to go in first?" Oriana hissed, pausing outside the door. Her blush told him she knew precisely how childish that had sounded the moment she said it, but having said it she wasn't going to back down. It had to be damned inconvenient for humans, having their emotions broadcast visibly to anyone and everyone capable of reading the signs.

He took pity and glided in before her, gritting his teeth when she deliberately kicked his heels. It was entirely possible he had deserved that.

It did not put him in the best of moods, seeing the inside of this office again in so short a space of time; Oriana's face showed a similar shade of disgruntlement. She took in her surroundings at a glance and he couldn't miss the way her eyes cooled as they fell on Bailey. Kolyat fought down the urge to rebuke her for the disrespect, reminding himself that at the moment he wasn't particularly fond of Bailey either.

"It hasn't been long, Ms. Lawson." Captain Bailey sounded every bit as put-upon as they looked. Kolyat resolved to save his annoyance for the one that truly deserved it.

"Shepard."

"I told you he could learn new tricks; he even greets me when he enters the room." Shepard's smile was mocking in a playful way, inviting him to join in her merriment at his expense; Oriana was smiling wide enough for both of them, and there was nothing friendly in it.

"I'm sure Oriana told you everything on the way?" That damnable smile still lingered on her lips, but the only way they could continue would be for him to ignore it.

"Commander Shepard, seeing as this is _my _jurisdiction perhaps you will let _me_ take responsibility?"

The flicker of shock in her eyes went a long way toward restoring Kolyat's rapidly fraying temper, and raised Captain Bailey considerably in his estimation. Clearly the man was due a promotion; it took backbone to challenge Shepard- give her an inch and she'd take a planet. Literally, depending on her mood.

It might have been his imagination, but he was fairly certain Oriana was slowly gravitating toward Shepard, the sides ever so subtly allying themselves. Now she wanted Shepard's company? Not twenty minutes ago the idea had sent her into a panic.

"What do you know, Kolyat?" Bailey was still eyeing Shepard warily, but it was obvious his attention was focused on the matter at hand.

"Nothing." Oriana rolled her eyes as if to say "and whose fault is that?"

The captain sighed deeply, "Shepard suspects that equipment is being diverted from Military supplies somewhere on one of the off-world bases. Supposedly it passes through here on its way to its final destination. Maybe one buyer, maybe many. All in all, not much to go on."

Kolyat nodded his understanding, still a little mystified as to why that would require both he and Oriana; his rank wasn't high enough for something like this and Oriana… really shouldn't be involved any more than she was forced to be.

"Oriana has done her part," Bailey tipped his head to her, "Shepard wants you to use your father's contacts and see if you can't find out where it's coming from. She'll take care of the rest."

Kolyat blinked, "Why not send my father if you want to use his contacts, Shepard?"

Shepard shrugged, "It's been a rough few months; he should have been resting, but we've been gallivanting around the galaxy instead. This is your chance to do him a good turn, and maybe earn yourself a little credit."

Translation: Shepard wanted an excuse to keep him in contact as long as possible in the hopes that it would foster some sort of bond, develop a dependency.

"Why am I here?" Oriana's voice was considerably softer, lacking any inflection of emotion at this point. Kolyat was fairly certain that paleness and darting eyes were indicative of nervousness.

Shepard grinned, "I just want you to keep an eye on things ground-side. Just keep doing what you're doing. Report any changes in behavior, extra inventory, loss of inventory… anything of interest." She paused, fixing Oriana with a stern eye, "But don't get in any trouble. Miranda would decorate her quarters with my viscera if anything happened to you."

"You want me to look for trouble without getting directly involved in it? That's going to be a neat trick."

"Won't it though?" Shepard nodded to both of them, positively cheerful. "Find a point of origin, I'll provide any further resources you may need as well as backup if it comes to it. I can't keep the Normandy in docking too much longer, there are obligations elsewhere that have been neglected too long."

"Such as?"

"Council business." Oriana hoped that wasn't code for 'vacation', but it seemed unlikely; Miranda claimed Shepard's idea of a romantic getaway was raiding slaver's den and making off with anything not bolted down to the floor.

"Then where's our backup?" If Kolyat wasn't going to ask, she certainly was. None of this felt right at all.

"I have friends that aren't crew, believe it or not. Comm me and I will put you in contact with them the moment we've established you need them."

"Do I need to get a weapon?" Oriana wasn't sure if she wanted a yes or no. 'Yes' meant Shepard was expecting trouble, but 'no' meant if there were trouble she would be left singularly unprepared.

"Absolutely not. Your first job is to not get involved, your second is to help out where you can. In case you haven't noticed, you've established a lasting rapport with several weapons merchants these past few months; talk to them, get a feel for what they're up to and if they know what's going on, but _don't _pry, just take whatever they offer. You'll do fine."

She was gone before anyone could voice another question; Bailey was the first to recover his wits, noticeably shaking off Shepard's influence. "You can go home, Ms. Lawson. Kolyat-" He hesitated, waving his hand toward the door, "We'll speak tomorrow evening."

Oriana ducked out quickly, followed closely by Kolyat. She jumped when he fell into step beside her, then cursed her nervousness quietly, pointedly not looking in his direction.

"Let me walk you home."

Part of her was tempted to make a snide remark about him following her regardless of her preferences, but she found herself nodding instead; she wasn't about to turn down company tonight.

!

The silence between them was almost companionable; Kolyat still worried at the problem of Shepard and what he was supposed to do with her ridiculous charge, but there was no need for him to speak it aloud.

Oriana's eyes were unfocused, turned within and he was glad she had accepted his offer to walk her home. Not that he wanted the company, but she had looked distinctly ill at ease.

That look had vanished now to be replaced by something a little more disconcerting- excitement. There was a difference between making the best of unfortunate circumstances and embracing the problem; it was not his place to comment, but he hoped she wouldn't do anything foolish.

They passed at least a dozen other pedestrians, once again avoiding the rapid transit, both too tightly wound to consider sitting still for a few minutes. Kolyat wondered if this camaraderie was going to be a permanent fixture or if it was only born of their mutual entanglement with Shepard. Either way, he was grateful for it.

"I don't have work tomorrow."

Kolyat started, neck warming with embarrassment; she had to have noticed that she had caught him off guard, but she made no comment on it and he gradually relaxed again.

"What of it?" Too late he realized that might be construed as aggressiveness.

Oriana shrugged, "I'm taking a day off, there are other things I need to do. Still, we need to coordinate."

"There's nothing to coordinate." She flashed him a pitying look and his frown deepened.

"I'm sure Captain Bailey will tell you tomorrow that Shepard always gets her way, and I would like to be prepared. Any particular merchants you want me talking to or is it lady's choice?"

"None."

"Upper market merchants it is."

She was looking forward to this, blast her! He could hear the eagerness in her tone and sought any way to dampen it.

"What is the point of requesting a weapon if you don't know how to use one?" Distraction; when all else failed it was a wonderful tactic.

He caught the indignant look that crossed her face only to be replaced with calculation. It did raise questions, "Do you know-"

"Of course not." Oriana shook her head, smiling slightly. The trouble with smiles, he decided, was that humans had one too many meanings for them, and could fake them with little effort. This one seemed genuine, and for the life of him he didn't know what it could mean.

If she were lying, she certainly wouldn't admit it to him. "This might be a good time to learn."

Oriana opened her mouth, a visible protest forming on her lips; at the last minute she seemed to change her mind, but her smile widened. " I thought you said there was nothing to coordinate, and who will teach me, you?"

"Yes."

He didn't like her considering look at all; he had made the offer, though, he couldn't very well withdraw it.

Oriana glanced up warily, wondering if this were some ploy to show her up. She wasn't the best of liars and she knew it; she had been counting on his distraction to see her through. Now it looked like he was calling her bluff.

Of course Miranda had walked her through basic combat. Everything from common techniques for dealing with undesirables to use of the more common varieties of firearms. And no few number of the uncommon variety. While she hadn't necessarily enjoyed the training, she had been a quick-study and took some pride in that.

He would know. If he took her out and tried teaching her, she would give herself away from the word go. If she refused, he would know she had lied. What about refusing on the grounds of morality? No particular care for weapons, Shepard's insistence that she wouldn't need to be armed, there were any number of reasons she could cite.

It didn't really matter in the end if he knew; she was entirely within her rights to practice. It just felt like he was still trying to ferret out bits and pieces about her, and truth be told she was a little annoyed.

Strike that, _very_ annoyed.

"I suppose you would want to do that tomorrow?" Leave it to her tongue to run away with her.

"I work in the evening. Morning would be best."

"Morning it is. Where shall we meet?" It was done; no backing down now.

"C-sec has an indoor range."

"All right." Nothing good could come of this.

Much to their mutual relief, the rest of their walk was completed with silence, both too preoccupied with their thoughts to speak further. They could just as easily resume their bickering tomorrow.

!

!

!

* * *

I really should have posted this before finals, but it was rather rough at the time. The good news is, I have my marks back and a newly (semi) stable internet connection and fifty percent of the next chapter finished.

Fair warning- it's going to be a long one.


End file.
